I ' 


TALES  OUT  OF  SCHOOL 


ROBERT  HAMILL  NASSAU 

AUTHOR    OP 

''Crowned  in  Palm-Land'' 

* '  Mawedo ' ' 

''Fetishism  in  West  Africa  " 

and 

" Corisco  Days'' 


PHILADELPHIA 

ALLEN,   LANE  &   SCOTT 

PRINTERS    AND    PUBLISHERS 
1911 


^^0.- 


2. -"5 
^1 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 


PART   I. 

THE  SCHOOL;     ITS  LOCATION;     AND   ITS 
TEACHERS. 


PART    II. 
IN  THE  SCHOOL:     THE  SCHOOL-GIRLS. 

PAGl 

Tale     1,  The  breaking-in  of  a  New  Pupil 22 

2,  Little  Fags 27 

3,  A  Day's  Doings,  1st  Half 35 

4,  A  Day's  Doings,  2d  Half 43 

5,  Rules  and  Black  Marks 48 

6,  School  Promenades 56 

7,  Vacations 61 

8,  The  Seven  Re-Captives 70 

9,  A  Little  Fag's  Experience 79 

10,  Friendships  and  Pastimes 87 

11,  Quarrels  and  Fightings 92 

12,  Pranks 96 

13,  "Bird's-Claws,"  a   Black  Sheep  of  the 

Flock 106 

THE  UNITED  PROBYTERIAN  MJSSION  LIBRARY 
WITHDRAWlJ^^^^'^''^^^^'  New  York  27.  H.Y. 


PAGE 

Tale  14,  Esonge  Climbs  out  of  the  Window 109 

15,  Agnes  Breaks  the  Switches 113 

16,  Wasted  Privileges 116 

"       17,  Fando  Runs  Away 125 

18,  Njivo  Bites  the  Teacher 130 

"       19,  Onanga,  An  Unexpected  Treasure 138 


PART   III. 

IN  THE  CHURCH. 

Kabinda :  An  Ignoble  Life 144 


PART  I. 

THE    SCHOOL;     ITS    LOCATION,    AND 
ITS  TEACHERS. 

ONLY  a  few  miles  north  of  the  Equator,  on  the 
South- West  Coast  of  Africa,  a  river  emerges 
into  the  South  Atlantic  Ocean.  It  is  not  a  long 
stream;  not  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in 
length.  But  it  has  many  affluents;  some  that  join  it  in 
the  Sierra  del  Crystal  range  of  mountains,  where  itself 
finds  its  source,  and  others  that  join  it  lower  down  on 
both  its  banks,  as  it  flows  westward  and  finally  northward 
into  the  sea. 

It  is  not  a  wide  stream,  until,  as  it  comes  in  sight  of 
the   sea   thirty   miles   distant,   it   suddenly   flings   itself 
out  on  either  side,  like  a  rnan  throwing  open  his  cloak,   (^.C/^lpi^ 
making  a  Bay  or  Estuary,  spreading  until  at  its  mouth     U 
it  is  twelve  miles  in  width. 

Its  native  is  Ma-kwe-nge.  But  the  early  Portuguese 
traders,  as  they  entered  its  broad  mouth,  imagined  its 
"cloak "-like  expanse,  and  called  it  "Gabon."  English 
people  pronounced  the  word,  "Gaboon."  That  was  the 
name  by  which  it  was  known,  for  a  hundred  years,  to 
foreigners,  the  river  itself,  the  tribe  which  dwelt  on  its 
banks,  and  the  region  of  country  for  fifty  miles  each 
side  of  it.  When,  sixty  years  ago,  traders  spoke  of  going 
to  "Gaboon,"  they  meant  anywhere  within  fifty  miles 
of  that  river.  The  French  word  for  a  man  of  the  tribe 
is  "Gabonais"  (female  Gabonaise) .    But  the  tribe  called 

(5) 


6  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

itself  '*Mpo-ngwe."  Ordinary  sea-captains  could  not 
pronounce  that  word;  they  miscalled  it  "Pongo."  Also, 
they  called  the  entire  region  the  Pongo  country,  for  a 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  northward.  A  legend  of  the  Bube 
tribe,  inhabiting  Fernando-Po  island,  states  that  they 
were  driven  to  that  island  for  refuge  by  their  enemies, 
the  Mpongwe,  who  had  formerly  extended  that  far 
north,  long  before  the  tribes  called  "Benga,"  *'Kombe," 
"Banaka"  and  others  had  emerged  from  the  interior 
on  to  the  Coast,  at  points  respectively  forty,  ninety 
and  a  hundred  and  sixty  miles  north  of  Makwenge  river. 

This  river,  like  all  rivers  emerging  on  the  south-west 
coast  of  Africa,  empties  itself  northward.  In  whatever 
direction  they  come  from  the  interior,  on  approaching 
the  coast,  they  turn  northward,  not  entering  the  sea  at 
a  right  angle  to  the  land,  but  at  quite  an  obtuse  angle 
on  their  right  bank.  The  cause  of  this  is  the  constant 
north-flowing  ocean-current,  which,  as  it  meets  the  water 
of  the  rivers,  (all  of  which  bear  quantities  of  sand  and 
mud),  makes  a  quiet  eddy  on  the  west  or  left  bank,  in 
which  the  sand  is  deposited.  This  deposit  grows,  year 
by  year,  causing  shallow  shoals,  and  finally  a  long 
Point  of  land.  The  force  of  the  rivers'  current  is  thus 
thrown  toward  the  right  bank.  So,  on  these  streams, 
the  land  on  the  east  or  right  bank,  has  its  earth  torn  away 
and  bare  rocks  stand  out;  while,  on  the  west  or  left  bank, 
the  long  low  sandy  Point  grows  yearly  longer.  Vessels, 
in  coming  from  the  south,  therefore,  can  not  see  the 
river's  mouth,  until  they  have  really  passed  it;  then 
they  turn,  and,  looking  down  into  the  mouth,  sail 
southward  into  it. 

The  rocky  Point  on  the  Gaboon  river's  right  bank  is 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 


called  by  English  people  Point^Clara;  by  the  French, 
Joinville.  The  low  Point  on  the  left  bank  is  called  by 
English,  "Sandy  Point."  Natives  called  it  "Ompomo- 
wa-igara"  (Point-of-the-outside) ,  because,  a  traveler 
who  is  coming  down  river,  and  who  wishes  to  turn 
southward,  comes  apparently  to  several  points,  each 
of  which  at  first  seems  to  mark  the  ocean,  before  he 
finally  reaches  the  ''outside"  or  farthest  one.  Most 
foreigners  who  cannot  speak  Mpongwe,  when  they 
heard  those  words  **  'mpom'  igara"  pronounced  rapidly, 
thought  they  sounded  like  one  word  "Pongara."  That 
is  the  name  they  marked  on  their  charts.  -^  ^ 

The  distance  between  the  two  Capes  or  Points,  on  the 
river-mouth,  is  as  much  as  twelve  miles.  The  Bay,  on 
soundings,  is  entirely  free  from  rocks;  and  the  channel 
is  so  well  marked  by  two  or  three  buoys,  which  in- 
dicate the  only  sand-bars,  that  ^o^pilot  is  needed;  the 
depth  of  water  is  enough  for  vessels  of  any  draft;  and 
the  harbor  is  large  enough  for  any  number  of  vessels  to 
anchor  on  good  sand  or  mud  bottom.  Being  land- 
locked, even  the  frequent,  sudden  and  severe  storms  of 
a  tropical  country  do  not  raise  heavy  waves  in  the  Bay. 
There  is  never  any  uncomfortable  surf,  through  which 
to  land. 

On  the  western  side  of  the  Bay,  the  land  is  low.  A 
sandy  prairie  comes  down  to  Pongara  Point.  The  prairie 
itself  is  dotted,  in  its  many  slight  depressions,  by 
"  islands"  of  trees,  and  by  small  ponds;  in  which  are 
caught,  during  the  long  Cold  Dry  Season  (June-Sep- 
tember) when  the  ponds  are  low,  a  great  quantity  of 
fish,  some  kinds  of  which  are  known  to  crawl,  at  spawn- 
ing times,  over  the  stretch  of  prairie-land  lying  between 


.r 


8  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

river  and  pond.  During  the  two  Rainy  Seasons  (Oc- 
tober-December, and  March-May)  when  the  grass  has 
sprung  up  young  and  tender,  after  it  has  been  burned 
over,  in  the  two  Dry  Seasons,  viz.  the  short  Hot  Dry 
(January  and  February),  and  the  long  Cold  Dry,  the 
prairie  affords  fine  hunting  of  wild  oxen,  wild  hogs,  ga- 
zelles, antelopes,  and  even  elephants. 

Farther  up  stream,  still  on  that  western  side,  the  land 
slowly  rises,  covered  by  a  heavy  forest,  and  is  very  much 
intersected  by  inland  water-ways  lined  with  mangrove 
swamps.  On  the  edges  of  this  forest  are  many  villages, 
formerly  of  the  Shekyani,  butjiirBr-^of  the Mpongwe  tribe; 
and  large  plantations  with  hamlets  of  their  slaves  who 
cultivate  their  farms ;  raising,  for  their  own  consumption 
and  for  sale  to  the  white  residents  at  the  Trading-Houses 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  quantities  of  plantains, 
yams,  and  other  vegetables.  There  also  are  the  best 
fishing-grounds  of  the  river;  whence  daily,  fresh  fish  are 
carried  to  the  market  across  the  Bay. 

That  western  side  is  called  "King  William's  side," 
from  the  English  name  of  a  deservedly  honored  native 
King  Elpantyamba.  The  French  called  him  "Roi 
Denis."  He  had  a  town  of  hundreds  of  retainers,  at  a 
place  on  the  prairie  called  "St.  Thome"  (from  the 
Portuguese  island  of  St.  Thomas,  distant  at  sea  about 
two  hundred  miles).  Though  a  heathen,  and  entirely 
uneducated,  he  was  a  man  of  great  intelligence,  and  of 
naturally  noble  character.  His  son  Adande,  who  in- 
herited his  name  Rapantyamba  and  title  Roi  Denis,  is 
a  well-educated  and  civilized  gentleman,  speaking  English 
and  French;  is  a  nominal  Romanist,  adhering  to  the 
native  customs  connected  with  Polygamy,  and  practicing 
some  of  the  divinations  of  Fetishism. 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  9 

After  a  course  of  fifteen  miles  up  the  Bay,  steamers 
come  to  anchor  a  mile  from  the  shore  of  the  town  of 
Libreville.  There  had  been  a  town  there,  certainly  for 
the  last  two  hundred  years,  known  as  "Gaboon."  But, 
when  the  French  seized  that  region  in  1843,  they  called 
it  "Libreville,"  intending  that,  like  the  city  of  Freetown 
in  Sierra  Leone,  it  should  be  a  port  of  deposit  for  re- 
captured slaves.  The  town  looks  beautifully  from  the 
deck  of  an  anchored  vessel.  The  Bay  curves  eastward, 
making  a  bight,  of  a  chord  of  some  three  miles  across. 
The  town  is  built  on  the  curve  of  the  arc.  A  well-ma- 
cadamized road,  called  the  Boulevard,  wide  enough  for 
two  vehicles  to  pass  (were  there  any  vehicles)  runs  for 
four  miles  on  that  arc.  At  long  intervals,  there  are  a  few 
cross  streets.  No  attempt  is  made  at  grading  or  paving 
them.  Barely  are  they  kept  clean  of  grass  and  weeds, 
by  spasmodic  efforts,  every  few  months  to  keep  down 
the  rampant  vegetation.  Some  of  these  streets  are 
shaded  by  avenues  of  coco-palms  with  their  gracefully 
waving,  feathery  fronds,  or  by  densely  foliaged  mangoe 
trees;  from  whose  over-ripe  fruit  the  Roman  Catholic 
missionaries  have  made  a  brandy;  which,  however,  has 
not  obtained  wide  acceptance,  due  to  the  peculiar  turpen- 
tine-like taste  of  the  mangoe. 

On  the  long  Boulevard  are  built  the  scattered  houses 
of  the  town.  At  the  upper  end,  called  by  the  natives, 
Lamba,  and  by  the  foreigners,  Glass  (after  the  English 
name  of  a  former  old  King  " Glass")  the  native  dwellings 
are  the  densest.  And  there,  formerly,  were  congregated 
on  the  beach  almost  all  the  foreign  Trading- Houses,  two 
English,  two  German,  and  one  American.    -Sc^    P 

Thence,  a  mile  farther  down,  were  a  few  more  Trading- 


10  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

Houses,  including  only  one  French,  and  the  small  French 
Government  Building,  on  an  elevated  area  called  the 
Plateau. 

And,  two  miles  beyond  is  the  native  village  Anwondo. 
A^  th^.  Lambda  end  of  Libreville,  a  few  hundred  yards 
back  from  the  beach,  runs  with  a  gentle  ascent  a  ridge, 
which  follows,  at  that  distance,  most  of  the  curve  of  the 
Boulevard.  At  the  extreme  Lamba  end,  the  ridge  rises 
gradually  to  a  small  hill,  on  which,  in  the  old  days  of  the 
Slave  Trade,  was  an  enclosure  for  slaves,  called  in  Por- 
tuguese, a  barracoon.  Natives,  in  trying  to  pronounce 
this  word,  called  it  "Ba-ra-ka."  It  was  a  depot  for 
slaves  gathered,  from  time  to  time,  from  various  interior 
tribes,  and  detained  in  the  enclosure  on  that  Hill  awaiting 
the  coming  of  some  slave-ship. 

Domestic  slavery  had  been  practiced,  from  time 
immemorial,  by  all  the  tribes  of  the  entire  African  con- 
tinent, as  a  ^nishment  for  crime.  Criminals,  even 
those  condemned  "to'death,  had,  sometimes,  their  sen- 
tences commuted  to  sale  into  slavery.  Vicious  and 
otherwise  troublesome  members  of  the  family  were 
sometimes  thus  disposed  of.  Persons  charged  with  the 
universal  crime  of  Witchcraft,  if  not  promptly  killed, 
were  sure  thus  to  be  sold  away.  Pitiably,  useless 
persons, — the  idiotic  and  the  deformed, — were  thus 
gotten  rid  of.  None  of  all  these  were  retained  in 
slavery  in  their  own  tribe.  They  might  have  had  even 
there  some  sympathisers,  and  therefore  would  have 
become  refractory.  The  sale  was  always  made  to  the 
tribe  next  adjacent  sea-ward.  If  there  they  were  found 
useful  and  docile,  they  were  well-treated.  If  refractory, 
they  were  sold  away  again  to  the  next  nearer  seashore 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  11 

tribe.  This  process  went  on,  so  that  those  who  finally- 
reached  the  sea-coast  were  the  very  worst  specimens. 
It  was  from ^tR em  that  the  first  cargoes  were  made  up 
for  Brazil  and  the  West  Indies.  Subsequently,  as  the 
market  was  stimulated,  and  the  demands  by  white  men 
grew  for  a  larger  supply,  the  cupidity  of  the  native 
"Kings"  was  aroused,  and  the  strong  tribes  raided  the 
weaker  ones,  seizing  prisoners  of  men,  women  and  children 
to  fill  the  slave-market. 

Pawning  of  their  children  for  debt  was  early  known 
to  tlie  poorer  members  of  the  tribes.  Debts  grew,  and 
the  pawns  were  rarely  redeemed;    they  were  sold  away. 

Frequently  children  were  kidnaped.  Salt,  in  the  old 
days,  before  white  traders  imported  it,  was  as  valuable 
as  gold.  Except  for  the  salt-** pans"  and  springs  of  the 
far  interior,  the  only  source  of  obtaining  it  was  by 
evaporating  the  sea-water.  This  was  the  monopoly  of 
the  coast-tribes.  Their  emissaries,  carrying  little  packets 
of  salt,  would  intentionally  drop  them  temptingly  at 
points  along  interior  paths  of  travel  or  near  springs,  and 
then  hide  themselves  in  ambush.  Some  child  coming  to 
the  spring,  would  snatch  up  the  treasure:  and  then 
would  be  seized  by  the  tempters,  and  carried  away,  on 
a  charge  of  theft. 

When  in  June,  1842,  Rev.  J.  L.  Wilson  transferred  a 
Mission  of  the  A.  B.  C.  F.  M.  from  Cape  Palmas,  Li- 
beria, to  the  Gaboon  River,  he  bought  from  the  native] 
"Kings"  or  Chiefs  that  Baraka  Hill.  One  of  those/ 
chiefs  was  named  Ntaka.  Being  an  unusually  intelli- 
gent and  truthful  man,  the  white  men  had  called  him 
"the  true  man."  He  adopted  those  words  as  his  sur- 
namer  ** Truman."     His  descendants  have  retained  it. 


12  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

One  of  them  became  a  minister  in  the  Mission,  Rev. 
Ntaka  Truman.  Old  King  Ntaka  always  wore  a  high 
silk  or  beaver  hat,  such  as  the  Traders  brought  from 
Liverpool  damaged  auction  sales,  with  the  cast-off  liv- 
eries of  the  servants  of  English  nobility.  These  were  given 
as  presents  to  the  native  men  of  prominence,  being 
regarded  by  them  as  signs  of  dignity  of  the  greatest 
value.  Indeed,  from  Ntaka's  constant  use  of  those  old 
high  hats  the  white  traders  called  them  "Epokolo  ya 
Toko"  (the  Taka  hat).  But  those  white  men  were  not 
philologists.  They  constantly  got  native  names  mispro- 
nounced; and  their  mis-spelling  is  continued  by  long 
use  even  to-day,  by  men  who  now  know  better.  Those 
Traders  miscalled  him  '"JToko^"  One  of  them  put  up  a 
grave-stone  for  him  in  the  Baraka  Cemetery,  on  which 
the  mis-spelling  is  perpetuated. 

So  also,  two  afifluents  of  the  Gaboon  River  are  mis- 
spelled. The  Rembwe  is  mis-called  **Ramway;"  and 
the  Nkama  is  mis-called  "Komo"  or  Como. 

The  buildings  of  the  Mission  occupy  the  site  of  that 
slave  barracoon.  There  grows  there  now  a  large,  hand- 
some bread-fruit  tree,  planted  by  Mr.  Wilson  on  the 
very  spot  where  was  standing  a  native  forest  tree  used 
as  a  whipping-post  for  cases  of  any  slaves  who  became 
refractory  while  they  were  in  confinement  awaiting  their 
exportation. 

The  view  from  that  Baraka  hill-top  is  the  finest  in 
Libreville.  Look  up  the  river  to  several  large  islands 
ten  or  fifteen  miles  distant.  One  of  them  is  Parrot 
island,  a  home  of  hundreds  of  the  grey  red-tailed  African 
parrot;  another  is  King's  island.  The  long-ago  old 
Dutch    Trading    Company    named    it    on    their    chart 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  13 

"Koenig."  They  had  a  fort  there.  And  still  to-day,  a 
few  old  rusty  cannon  are  there. 

Looking  across  the  estuary,  at  different  lines  of  vision, 
twenty,  fifteen,  and  ten  miles  distant,  a  mangrove  swamp 
shows  how,  in  the  centuries,  that  side  of  the  river  has 
been  built  up  by  the  mud  brought  down  the  stream. 
The  tide  runs  up  for  about  seventy  miles,  and  comes 
back  with  a  strong  current.  Out  over  the  bar,  to  the 
west  and  north,  is  a  magnificent  sea-view.  Steamers 
are  visible  long  before  they  actually  arrive  at  anchor. 

Most  of  the  native  forest  trees  have  been  cleared 
away  in  the  proximity  of  the  beach.  But  their  place  is 
occupied  by  a  jungle  of  flowering  shrubs  and  vines,  on  the 
edges  of  patches  of  elevated  open  land;  behind  which,  a 
half-mile  from  the  sea,  is  the  solid  edge  of  the  great 
African  Forest  that  covers  a  parallelogram  of  eight  hun- 
dred miles  interior  by  three  hundred  miles  of  the  coast 
of  the  African  Equatorial  belt.  In  it  are  elephants,  wild- 
oxen,  wild  hogs,  leopards,  a  number  of  species  of  ante- 
lopes and  gazelles,  a  great  variety  of  chimpanzees, 
monkeys,  and  birds,  and  smaller  animals.  In  the  jungle 
are  snakes,  and  those  horrible  caricatures  of  human 
beings,  the  gorillas.  And,  in  the  rivers,  are  the  huge 
hippopotamus,  crocodiles  of  the  gavial  species,  the 
delicious  manatus  or  dugong,  and  a  variety  of  fish. 
The  early  Portuguese  Roman  Catholic,  and  later  the 
English  Protestant,  missionaries  brought  foreign  seeds 
and  plants.  So,  besides  its  own  indigenous  tropical 
fruits,  the  entire  region  is  well  supplied  with  other  fruits, 
introduced  from  Brazil  and  the  West  Indies. 

France  had  very  little  interest  in  her  possessions  in  the 
Gaboon  region,  for  a  long  while  after  her  seizure  of  that 


14  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

country  in  1843.  The  dominant  influence  in  Trade  and 
Religion  was  English.  But,  when  Count  P.  S.  De- 
Brazza,  about  1874,  revealed  the  value  of  the  Ogowe 
river  as  an  avenue  to  the  Kongo  interior,  France  asserted 
herself,  successively,  by  an  active  government  of  the 
natives,  by  the  fostering  of  a  Roman  Catholic  Mission, 
by  the  granting  of  special  favor  to  French  Trading-houses, 
by  the  prohibition  of  the  use  of  the  English  language 
(and  finally  the  requisition  of  the  French  language)  in 
School  and  public  documents.  The  AmericanJTra^ing-.. 
house  was  abandoned;  some  of  the  English  and  German 
traders  withdrew;  French  firms  were  largely  increased; 
the  machinery  of  Government  was  made  more  prominent 
in  the  number  and  size  of  Official  Buildings,  the  increase 
of  Officers,  and  the  red-tape  of  Regulations.  Govern- 
ment-House, Hospital,  Post-office,  Custom-house,  Treas- 
ury, Telegraph,  Repair-shops,  Cathedral,  etc.,  were  all 
centered  around  their  original  single  building  on  the  old 
Plateau  area.  The  French  Trading-houses  gathered 
there.  And,  at  the  present  time,  that  spot  is  the  real 
Libreville.  "Glass"  is  very  much  reduced  in  its  popu- 
lation ;  and  its  importance  is  almost  gone,  except  for  the 
presence  of  one  English  Trading-house,  and  the  Prot- 
estant Mission  on  Baraka  hill. 

All  those  French  additions  are  the  new  things  of  the 
present.  These  School-girl  Tales  come  from  the  times 
and  conditions  of  a  generation  ago,  between  the  years 
1850  and  1880.  The  missionaries  named  or  referred  to 
by  these  former  school-girls,  lived  there  during  those 
years.  Only  one  of  them,  Mrs.  Bushnell,  is  living  to-day, 
in  the  United  States.  After  Mr.  Wilson  had  examined 
the  Gaboon  region,  and  selected  and  bought  the  Baraka 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  15 

hill  in  June,  1842,  he  wrote  word  to  his  associates  in  the 
A,  B.  C.  F.  M.  Cape  Palmas  Mission,  that  he  considered 
Gaboon  a  more  healthy  country  than  Liberia,  and 
directed  them  to  abandon  Cape  Palmas.  They  did  so, 
and  an  American  Episcopal  Mission  occupied  their  place. 
And  in  December,  1842,  Rev.  Wm.  Walker  removed  to 
Gaboon;  in  June,  1843,  he  was  followed  by  Rev.  Albert 
Bushnell;  and  he  subsequently  by  Rev.  I.  M.  Preston 
from  America.  There  were  many  other  missionaries, 
male  and  female,  lay  and  clerical,  married  and  single, 
who  followed  during  the  years  1845-1885.  Some  of 
them  died:  Others,  for  various  reasons, — ill-health,  dis- 
satisfaction, incompetency,  the  belief  (at  that  time)  that 
white  maternity  in  tropical  Africa  was  almost  necessarily 
fatal,  the  great  fear  (at  that  time)  for  the  lives  of  white 
infants, — returned  to  the  United  States.  But  the  entire 
work  in  School,  Church  and  Station,  at  Baraka  during 
the  forty  years,  1842-1882,  can  be  covered  by  the  four 
names  Wilson,  Walker,  Preston  and  Bushnell.  During 
all  those  years,  excepting  occasional  intervals  of  only  a 
few  months,  some  one  of  those  four,  or  their  wives,  was 
present  and  in  charge.  If  one  or  two  of  them  happened 
to  be  absent  on  furlough  in  the  United  States,  at  least 
one  of  the  others  remained  in  charge,  assisted  by  some 
two  or  three  of  the  many  transient  ones  of  shorter  stay 
whose  names  I  have  not  here  mentioned. 

Of  those  four,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wilson  were  the  first  to 
retire  from  the  Mission.  He  became  the  Rev.  J.  Leighton 
Wilson,  D.D.,  Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Foreign  Mis- 
sions of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  United  States 
(North) ;  and,  after  1861,  Secretary  of  the  similar  Board 
of   the    Presbyterian   Church    (South).     They   are   now 


16  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

dead.  The  next  to  leave  were  Rev.  Ira  M.  and  Mrs. 
Preston.  They  lived  for  several  years  retired  in  ill- 
health  in  Ohio;  are  now  dead.  Mr.  Bushnell  became  the 
Rev.  Albert  Bushnell,  D.D.  He  died  of  pneumonia,  on 
the  African  steamer,  as  it  was  entering  Freetown  harbor, 
Sierra  Leone,  in  1879;  was  buried  there;  and  subse- 
quently was  re-interred  at  Baraka.  His  widow  re- 
mained in  the  Misssion  until  she  finally  retired  about 
1883.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Walker  retired  from  the  Mission 
(as  he_supposed)  finally,  in  April,  1871.  He  was  aged; 
he  thought  he  had  reached  the  end  of  his  ability  to 
serve:  he  was  a  hearty  Congregationalist ;  and,  his 
A.  B.  C.  F.  M.  Society  having  given  up  its  Gaboon  mis- 
sion-field to  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  the  adjacent 
Corisco  Mission,  he  was  not  willing  to  transfer  his  eccle- 
siastical connection.  He  retired  with  the  respect  and 
love  of  most  of  tHV  natives,  who,  though  he  was  often 
severe,  believed  in  his  paternal  sincerity,  and  were  im- 
pressed by  the  strength  of  his  rugged  mind.  Even  the 
white  foreign  community,  against  the  dissolute  lives  of 
some  of  whom,  he  had  been  denunciatory  almost  to  the 
point  of  exasperation,  respected  his  vigorous  intellect- 
uality and  fearlessness.  They  made  up  a  complimentary 
purse  as  a  present  for  his  declining  years.  He  left  behind 
him  at  that  time  an  honored  and  revered  name.  Mrs. 
Walker  died  in  the  United  States.  Nine  years  after  his 
leaving  the  Mission,  an  emergency  occurred.  The  force 
at  Baraka  was  very  weak;  no  one  was  at  all  equal  to 
Mr.  Walker  in  knowledge  of  the  Mpongwe  language;  it 
was  desired  that  the  translation  of  the  Bible  should  be 
completed ;  he  was  in  an  unexpectedly  comfortable  state 
of--feealth;    and  the   Presbyterian   Board  asked  him  to 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  17 

return  to  Africa,  for  a  limited  period,  for  the  sole  purpose 
of  translating  the  Scriptures.  There  were  others  in  the 
Mission  who  could  attend  to  the  Church,  the  School,  and 
the  Station  secular  work. 

In  making  this  request  of  Mr.  Walker,  the  Presbyter- 
ian Board  did  him  the  unprecedented  honor  of  not  asking 
hiili  to  join,  e^en  pro  forma.,  the  Presbyterian  Church,  as 
is  invariably  their  custom,  when  any  one  applies  to  be 
sent  out  under  their  direction.  Under  that  rule  there 
have  been  members  of  the  Mission,  men  and  women  who 
had  formerly  held  their  connection  with  Methodist, 
Baptist,  Congregational,  Lutheran  and  other  evangeli- 
cal denominations.  In  consideration  of  Mr.  Walker's 
age  and  former  eminent  service,  and  the  fact  that  the 
proposition  for  renewed  service  had  not  come  from  him, 
the  Board  most  considerately  said  nothing  about  de- 
nominational connection.  Nor  was  there  any  need  to  do 
so.  As  a  Congregationalist  he  could  translate  the  Bible 
as  efficiently  as  if  he  was  nominally  a  member  of  any 
other  evangelical  Christian  body.  And,  it  was  not  the 
expectation  that  he  would  have  any  other  function 
than  that  of  a  Translator.  (Though,  as  he  came  ac- 
credited as  a  full  member  of  the  Mission,  he  had  a  right 
to  all  its  privileges;  and  might,  probably,  be  elected  to 
some  of  its  offices.)  But  he  was  not  a  member  of  the 
ecclesiastical  Body,  the  Corisco  Presbytery,  except  by  the 
courtesy  of  corresponding  membership.  And  therefore, 
though,  by  request,  occupying  the  Gaboon  church  pulpit, 
he  had  no  authority  over  its  Session.  He  returned  to  the 
U.  S.  when  his  Translation  work  was  completed.  And 
died  a  few  years  later. 


18  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

Almost  all  the  missionaries,  male  and  female,  of  the 
transient  ones,  and  the  female  assistant  teachers  in  the 
Girls'  School,  are  remembered  kindly  by  those  girls. 
Every  man  or  woman,  connected  with  any  School  any 
where,  has  some  foible  in  character  or  manner,  on  which 
pupils  seize,  and  which,  among  themselves  in  private, 
they  mimic  or  laugh  at.  It  was  so  with  these  unnamed 
missionaries.  But  the  mimicry  or  the  joke  was  not  in- 
tended by  the  school-girls  as  disrespect  toward  those 
whom  they  loved.  They  loved  almost  all.  They  have 
named  to  me  but  two  or  three,  of  the  many  who  were 
there  during  those  forty  years,  whom  they  disrespected; 
and  only  one  lady  whom  they  learned  to  hate,  because 
oi  her  tactless  and  unjust  dealings. 

In  the  following  tales,  the  word  "Mistress"  or  "Ma" 
used  by  the  narrators,  means  always  either  Mrs.  Bushnell, 
Mrs.  Walker  or  Mrs.  Preston.  "Teacher"  means  the 
(generally)  unmarried  female  white  assistant  to  the  one 
of  those  three  ladies  who  happened  to  be  in  charge. 
There  were  other  assistants,  native  females,  whom  I 
call  monitors. 

In  the  region  are  many  tribes  of  the  Negro  stock  called 
Bantu;  stock  that  covers  the  entire  southern  third  of 
the  African  continent  below  the  fourth  degree  of  north 
latitude.  Many  of  these  tribes  are  small  in  number. 
Some  counting  only  a  few  thousands.  But,  for  all  that 
they  are  small,  and  without  any  real  central  native 
government,  they  are  exceedingly  clannish,  clinging 
tenaciously  to  the  small  differences  that  separate  them 
from  adjacent  tribes.  This  clannishness  often  made 
difficulty  in  the  Schools,  the  "upper"  tribes,  formerly, 
being  unwilling  that  their  children  should  be  taught  in 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  19 

the  company  of  members  of  what  they  called  lower 
tribes.  This  question  of  precedence  rested  on  two  factors, 
viz.  priority  of  emergence  on  to  the  Coast;  and  the  prox- 
imity to  foreign  white  Trading-houses.  Xhe. ^tribes  on 
th^JIkiast,4iajiaftg-oxiginally  a  monopoly  of  the  Ivory  and 
.BjibbejL.Trade,  allowed  neither  foreign  traders  to  go  into 
the  interior,  nor  the  interior  tribes  to  emerge  onto  the 
sea-side.     (That  monopoly  is  now  broken.) 

Of  the  dialects  of  Bantu  spoken  by  all  these  tribes, 
while  they  all  had  the  same  grammatical  construction, 
they  differed  more  or  less  in  their  vocabulary.  Indeed 
these  differences  in  some  dialects  were  so  great  that 
they  could  not  be  understood  by  some  of  the  other 
tribes.  It  was  found  in  reducing  these  dialects  to  writ- 
ing, that  they  could  be  grouped  into  three  lists,  1st.  The 
^jpongwe  of  Gaboon.  Cognate  with  it  were  the  lan- 
guages of  tribes  to  the  south,  the  Nkami,  Orungu, 
Ajumba,  Inenga,  and  Galwa  of  the  Ogowe  Delta.  2nd. 
Northward,  the  Benga  of  Corisco  Island  and  Bay.  Cog- 
nate with  it  were  the  Mbiko,  Bapuku,  Kombe,  Banaka, 
and  Bakele.  3rd.  Interior-ward  was  tjie  great  Fang 
tribe,  with  its  divisions  of  Osheba,  Bulu,  and  others. 

These,  though  living  in  the  same  general  region,  with 
one  climate,  differed  much  in  their  customs,  dress,  and 
food.  Some  tribes  chose  to  live  mostly  on  the  plantain; 
others  on  cassava  (the  tuber  of  tapioca) ;  others  on  the 
eddo  (a  calladium) ;  others  on  ground-nuts.  But  all 
cultivated  all  these  and  other  vegetables  also.  It  was 
remarkable  that  tribes  thus  breathing  the  same  air, 
eating  much  the  same  food,  and  intermarrying,  yet^ 
^kept  their  tribal  physical  characteristics.  The  Mpongwe 
people  were  tall,  gracefully  fashioned,  polite  and  hand- 


20  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

some.  The  Benga  were  tall,  strongly  and  roughly  built, 
and  their  men  of  a  fierce  look.  The  Kombe  were  smaller 
in  stature.  The  Banaka  of  medium  stature,  and  their 
features  coarse.  So  marked  were  these  differences,  that, 
even  where  there  were  no  tribal  tattooings,  it  was  pos- 
sible for  me  to  tell  what  was  a  stranger's  tribe,  at  first 
sight,  without  always  being  able  to  indicate  to  any  one 
else  just  what  were  the  points  of  feature,  manner,  etc., 
etc.,  on  which  I  had  made  my  diagnosis. 

As  to  social  status,  the  Mpongwe  reclconedlhemselves 
superior  to  all  the  adjacent  northern  coast  tribes.  It 
was  utterly  forbidden  that  a  Mpongwe  woman  should 
descend  by  marriage  to  any  man  of  those  tribes,  however 
worthy  he  personally  might  be.  But  Mpongwe  men, 
by  marrying  women  of  these  "lower"  tribes,  elevated 
them  (as  they  considered).  With  some  hesitation,  a 
Mpongwe  woman  could  marry  an  Orungu  or  Nkami  or 
other  southern-coast  man.  Next  in  precedence  were 
the  Benga.  After  them,  the  shades  in  social  status  were 
marked  with  only  slight  gradations.  Always,  however, 
remembering  that  no  interior  tribes-man  could  marry 
any  coast-tribe  woman.  All  interior  tribes  were  con- 
temptuously called  "bush-men." 

These  Tales  were  told  me  by  three  of  the  former 
school-girls  (two  of  whom  are  now  dead),  when 
themselves  were  grandmothers,  and  members  of  the 
church.  I  wrote  them  from  their  lips;  and,  in  compiling 
them,  I  have  generally  retained  their  pronominal  first 
person.     My  interjected  remarks  are  in  brackets. 

What  I  have  written  myself  is  gathered  authori- 
tatively from  Church  Records,  or  from  my  own  personal 
knowledge,  or  from  the  direct  and  positive  statement 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  21 

of  the  native  involved  in  the  case.    I  have  taken  nothing 
at  vague  hear-say  or  second-hand  information. 

.Mission  Reports  are  written  every  year  from  their 
Stations,  Schools  and  Churches;  and  extracts  are 
printed  by  their  Home  Boards  for  information  of  friends 
of  the  cause.  Those  extracts  are  true,  interesting,  and^ 
nstr^^tjve.  But  they  are  inconrpjete.  They  represent 
theJom^^us:Qrkeiil^pjmt^gf  view.  They  ar^4ike  the 
official  circular  of  the  principal  of  any  institution  in 
America.  But,  if  a  visitor  could  privately  meet  the 
pupils  in  that  institution,  he  might  be  given  another 
report — the  pupil's  point  of  view. 

So,  these  Tales  give  an  aspect  of  occurrences  in 
Church  and  School  .iiQJL:u^ually_pxesented -in  missionary 
letters.  ^That  the  occurrences  were  actual  I  know,  from 
my  own  observation,  or  from  the  testimony  of  Christian 
witnesses. 


PART    11. 
IN   THE    SCHOOL. 


Tale,    No.    1. 
The    Breaking    In    of   a    New    Pupil. 

IN  our  school-days,  whenever  a  new  pupil  came,  the 
other  girls  would  welcome  her  with  the  usual  salu- 
tation, **Mbolo"  (Long  life  to  you!)  Then  they 
would  begin  to  judge  concerning  her,  to  decide  on  the 
place  where  she  should  stand  in  the  company;  looking 
at  her  height;  her  size,  her  bearing,  and  her  manners 
and  ways;  by  these,  to  judge  of  her  whether  she  was 
weak-spirited  or  stronghearted.  Then  those  who  were 
of  the  same  height  as  she,  would  say,  "She  belongs  to 
our  set;  she  is  nkona  (equal)  with  us."  Then  some 
of  the  troublesome  ones  of  that  set  would  say,  "No!  we 
can't  tell  that  yet,  whether  she  belongs  to  our  group  or 
not."  This  meant  that  she  would  have  to  do  a  lot  of 
fighting  before  she  gained  her  own  place.  She  then 
would  be  left  for  a  time  by  herself,  with  only  two  or 
three  to  pay  her  any  attention  as  friends. 

The  next  thing  was  to  begin  to  tease  her,  so  as  to 
know  what  her  temper  was,  whether  weak  or  strong, 
in  order  to  start  up  a  quarrel,  which  would  grow  into  a 
fight.  If  the  new  girl  was  strong  enough  to  conquer 
the  first  one  who  should  fight  with  her,  or  at  least  proved 
to  be  equal  in  strength,  then  they  would  begin  to  say, 

(22) 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  23 

"O!  may-be  she  is  all  right;  and  she  belongs  to  otir 
nkona."  After  that  first  fight  and  her  nkona  was  settled, 
the  others  of  that  same  nkona  would  say,  "She  must 
now  fight  each  one  of  us  in  succession."  One  of  their 
number  would  say,  "I  take  the  first  chance!"  And 
so  it  would  go  on.  If,  after  that  first  fight,  they  saw  that 
she  was  brave,  and  had  fought  it  out  well,  the  rest  of 
the  nkona  would  try  her,  not  in  anger  nor  to  strike  to 
hurt,  but  to  ndemb'-opa  (wrestle)  in  a  friendly  contest, 
or  in  running  a  race.  Thus  she  soon  fights  out  her  place, 
and  is  fully  accepted  in  their  company  or  nkona.  But, 
if  she  was  not  successful  in  her  first  fight,  she  feels  troubled 
and  is  ashamed.  Then  all  the  others  will  take  advantage 
of  her,  and  torment  her  all  the  time,  in  many  small  mean 
ways.  For  example,  thus: — "What  do  you  look  at  me 
for  in  such  a  cross  way?"  "Why  do  you  bring  your 
body  against  mine  in  passing,  as  if  you  want  to  push 
me?"  "Why  do  you  tread  on  my  toe?"  "Why  do 
you  step  on  my  dress  while  I'm  sitting  down?  Did  your 
father  and  mother  give  it  to  you?" 

These  and  other  charges  would  be  made,  of  which  the 
new  girl  was  entirely  innocent.  So,  she  would  deny, 
and  say,  "I  did  not!"  The  other  one,  "You  did!  You 
did!"  "I  did  not!  O  no^a  (You  are  telling  a  lie)."  The 
other  one  says,  "How  dare  you  say  I  tell  a  lie?  If  you 
say  anything  back  to  me,  then  I  will  pull  off  this  my  dress, 
and  tear  it  in  pieces,  and  put  them  down  at  your  feet, 
and  you  will  go  to  your  father  and  mother,  and  bring 
me  another  in  its  place."  The  new  girl  would  say,  "If 
you  tear  your  dress  yourself,  you  will  have  to  lose  it. 
And  why  do  you  mention  the  names  of  my  father  and 
mother?     I  won't  allow  it.     If  you  do,  I  will  mention 


24  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

your  mother."  [This  is  one  of  the  commonest  of  insults.] 
Then  the  other  one  would  say,  "Yes!  we'll  see  about 
that."  [This  in  order  to  force  a  fight.]  Then  the  new 
girl,  thus  challenged,  if  she  was  not  afraid,  would  say, 
"Yes!  we'll  have  our  fight!  I  mention  your  mother's 
name."  [Equivalent  to  "taking  a  name  in  vain."]  Then 
she  would  click  her  tongue,  as  a  sign  of  insult  for  the 
other's  mother.  The  other  would  click  in  return.  And 
they  would  click  back  and  forth,  saying,  "This  is  for 
your  mother!  "  [The  click  is  made  by  bending  the  tip 
of  the  tongue,  pressing  it  heavily  against  the  roof  of  the 
mouth,  and  then  suddenly  forcing  the  tongue  toward 
the  back  of  the  mouth.  A  clucking  sound  is  thus  pro- 
duced.] Then  soon  the  fighting  begins.  If  the  new  girl 
is  not  strong  to  fight,  and  is  defeated,  and  she  sees  she 
is  not  able  to  stand  up  with  those  whom  she  thought 
were  her  own  nkona,  then  she  feels  lonely;  and  she  her- 
self will  choose  to  associate  with  the  next  smaller  class, 
not  her  own  nkona. 

Then,  sometimes,  those  smaller  ones,  seeing  she  is  alone, 
instead  of  accepting  her,  will  say,  "  See!  she  is  not  strong; 
if  we  unite,  we  can  pull  her  down!"  But,  sometimes,  if 
she  has  spunk,  she  will  not  submit  to  that,  and  will  her- 
self begin  a  quarrel  by  beating  down  the  smaller  ones. 
If  she  does  that,  then  she  will  be  left  entirely  to  herself. 
Seeing  this,  she  will  try  to  pick  out  one  from  the  company 
of  her  own  size  of  those  who  had  defeated  her,  and  ask 
her  to  be  her  friend.  Then  that  one  will  accept  her, 
and  will  try  to  help  her,  and  show  her  ways  to  do  in  order 
to  please  the  others.  After  awhile,  when  she  knows 
more  girls,  and  learns  about  their  ways,  and  no  longer 
feels  herself  a  stranger,  then  she  is  able  to  join  in  their 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  25 

play  with  those  of  her  nkona,  by  aid  of  this  friend. 
Then  others  will  begin  to  take  her  as  an  associate,  and 
she  is  allowed  to  join  in  their  plays;  she,  in  return,  tells 
them  stories  about  her  home,  and  teaches  them  new 
songs  of  her  village.  Then  she  will  begin  to  feel  quite 
at  home.  And  she  will  tell  her  friend,  when  they  are 
alone  together,  that  the  reason  she  was  defeated  at  first 
by  those  of  her  nkona,  was  because  she  felt  her  lone- 
liness and  newness,  "So,  I  think  we  better  try  over  again 
by  ndemb'-opa  (wrestling),  and  see  again  what  my 
strengthis."  So,  the  others  will  say,  "All  right!  "  Then, 
they  will  begin  that  practice  every  day,  just  after  school. 
Usually,  she  would  gain  in  the  contest,  being  made 
stronger-hearted  by  her  new  friend.  And  the  others 
will  begin  to  offer  peace;  but  she  does  not  quite  forget 
what  was  done  to  her  at  the  first,  especially  by  those  who 
had  been  really  cruel  to  her  in  the  beginning.  She  will 
say,  "I  haven't  forgotten  yet!"  Then  those  others  will 
say,  "But  you  were  a  stranger  then;  and  we  did  not 
know  you  were  nice ;  and  now  we  have  made  it  up ;  and 
we  like  you;  and  we  are  your  friends."  And  some  of 
them  who  had  been  worst  will  privately  to  her  give 
excuse,  "As  for  myself,  I  was  willing  to  be  your  friend 
from  the  very  first;  but  I  had  to  go  along  with  the 
others.  For,  if  I  had  not  treated  you  as  I  did,  they  would 
have  said  I  was  afraid  of  you." 

Sometimes,  when  two  or  three  happened  to  come  to 
join  the  school  together,  then  they  would  not  have  so 
much  trouble,  they  would  not  be  interfered  with,  and 
soon  they  would  be  left  unmolested.  Sometimes,  if  the 
new  comer  looked  strong  and  stout,  some  of  the  others 
would  say,   "She  looks  as  if  she  is  strong  to  fight.     I 


26  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

wonder  if  she  is  able  to   knock  us  down?"     So,   they 
would  hesitate  to  annoy  her. 

These  contests  were  the  way  in  which  friendships  were 
settled,  or  enmities  were  made.  The  enemies,  if  they 
did  not  keep  on  fighting,  would  have  nkoma  (not  on 
speaking  terms).  There  would  be  some  small  quarrel 
about  taking  the  other's  pepper  or  other  small  article 
of  food.  Then,  they  would  not  speak  to  each  other, — 
nor,  when  sitting  on  the  same  bench,  allow  their  dresses 
to  touch, — nor  take  hold  together  of  the  same  reading- 
book  in  school,  nor  have  anything  to  do  with  each  other. 
But  they  would  fimza  ngdkd  (take  revenge)  about  every 
little  thing  in  which  they  could  give  offense  or  annoyance. 


tales  out  of  school.  27 

Tale,   No.   2. 
Little    Fags. 

THERE  was  a  ntyali  (custom)  when  new  pupils 
came,  especially  for  the  small  ones.  Our  mis- 
tress would  tell  us  which,  of  the  "big  girls," 
was  to  take  care  of  the  new  little  one;  or,  if  several 
new  small  ones  came  at  the  same  time,  then  the  care 
of  them  was  divided.  That  made  each  of  the  first 
Class  of  large  girls  to  have  five  or  six  little  ones  for 
whom  to  care.  The  second  Class  would  have  a  less 
number.  The  third  Class  would  have,  each  of  them, 
one.  And  the  fourth  Class  had  no  care  of  any  others; 
only  to  take  care  of  themselves.  All  beyond  these  four 
Classes  were  "the  small  girls,"  to  be  taken  care  of. 

Sometimes,  when  the  new  children  came,  instead  of  the 
teacher  deciding  which  one  of  the  first  Class  should  take 
charge  of  them,  some  one  of  the  older  girls  would  take  a 
fancy  to  one  of  these  new  ones,  and  would  say,  "I'll  take 
this  one!" 

But,  sometimes,  there  would  come  a  child  whom  no 
one  desired  to  have.  Then  the  Mistress  had  to  compel 
some  one  to  take  her.  Sometimes  the  new  ones  would 
really  like  the  seniors  to  whom  they  were  assigned,  and 
would  call  them  their  "young  mothers."  The  older  ones 
would  show  partiality  to  the  younger  who  were  assigned 
to  them,  if  they  liked  them;  but  would  neglect  them,  if 
they  had  been  compelled  to  take  them. 

As,  in  school,  everything  had  to  go  by  rule,  the  "big 
girls"  were  required  to  see  that  their  little  ones  were 
washed  or  given  a  good  bath  a  certain  number  of  times 


28  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

a  week ;  and  were  to  fix  their  hair ;  either  (as  need  might 
be)  to  shave,  or  to  comb,  or  to  braid  into  masala  (chig- 
nons), a  certain  number  of  times  each  week.  They 
were  also  to  see  about  their  clothing;  sewing,  washing, 
ironing  and  mending  for  them. 

While,  at  the  same  time,  those  younger  ones  were 
taught  to  do  a  little  sewing  and  other  outside  work. 
Whenever  the  "big"  girls  took  a  fancy  to  their  small 
ones,  things  went  on  very  well.  The  young  ones  would 
be  very  much  attached  to  the  older  ones,  just  as  if  they 
were  their  sisters  or  "young  mothers."  They  would 
help  their  big  ones,  by  doing  small  works  and  errands 
for  them.  And  the  big  one,  when  she  fixed  the  hair  of 
the  young  one  to  whom  she  had  taken  a  fancy,  wotdd 
fuss  over  the  hair  a  long  time,  to  make  it  look  as  nice  as 
possible.  Also,  in  giving  their  favorites  a  bath,  they 
would  wash  them  carefully  all  over,  examining  the  in- 
side of  their  ears  and  other  parts  of  their  body,  and  all 
over  their  skin,  so  that  they  should  catch  no  eruption 
or  other  skin  disease.  Because  it  was  part  of  their  duty 
to  care  for  the  little  ones  if  they  were  sick,  and  report 
to  the  teacher  any  case  of  sickness.  They  desired, 
therefore,  to  prevent  sickness. 

But,  when  there  came  to  them  a  child  whom  they  did 
not  like,  then  things  went  on  very  hard.  The  little  one 
was  in  a  pitiable  situation.  When  it  came  time  for  the 
Saturday  washing  or  bath,  instead  of  her  being  called 
kindly  to  strip  herself,  as  they  all,  each  big  girl  with  her 
little  one,  stood  ready  about  a  large  tub,  she  would  be 
rudely  pulled  by  the  arm,  and  bidden  curtly,  "Yogo! 
savuna!"  (Come!  wash!)  After  the  lonely  child  had 
herself  taken  off  her  dress,  and  her  body  had  been  ridi- 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  29 

culed,  she  would  stand  for  a  minute  or  so  near  the  tub 
waiting  for  farther  direction.  Then  comes  a  push: 
"Why  don't  you  get  in?"  And  then  the  big  girl  would 
throw  a  little  water  up  over  her,  and  say,  "Now!  wash 
yourself!  Do  you  think  I'm  going  to  rub  you  with  my 
hands  ? "  Then  the  child  would  try  to  wash  herself ;  which 
means  that  she  will  be  only  half  washed,  with  no  one  to 
look  carefully  in  the  folds  of  skin  behind  her  ears  and 
on  her  back.  After  the  washing,  there  is  another  test, 
when  it  comes  to  changing  clothing,  and  putting  on 
clean  clothes.  They  all  go  to  the  other  house  for  clean 
dresses  to  be  given  out  by  the  teacher,  who  will  examine 
each  little  body  to  see  whether  it  is  cleaned.  There 
the  dirty  ears  and  legs  will  be  revealed.  Then  the  ques- 
tion is  asked  of  the  child,  **Who  washed  you?"  She 
is  in  a  strait,  whether  she  tells  the  truth  or  whether  she 
prevaricates.  She  tells  the  truth,  **Mie  me"  (my  own 
self).  Then  a  rebuke  will  come  on  the  elder  girl,  and 
a  command  to  go  and  wash  her  "child"  again.  This 
the  big  girl  would  dislike,  murmuring,  "I  have  to  go 
and  wash  this  child  whom  I  dislike! "  Then  the  big 
girl  and  her  little  one  will  go  off  to  do  the  washing  again. 
As  soon  as  they  get  out  of  sight  away  from  the  dwelling- 
house,  the  big  one  would  take  her  revenge,  pushing, 
striking  and  reviling  the  little  one,  saying,  "Why  did 
you  not  wash  yourself  clean?  Giving  me  this  trouble 
to  come  to  this  work  after  the  others  are  all  done  and 
gone  off!  Am  I  the  slave  which  your  parents  bought 
for  you,  to  work  for  you  here  at  the  Mission?  You'll 
see  what  I'll  do  to  you  to-day! "  The  child  stands 
crying  with  shame,  tender-heart,  and  fear.  Down 
comes   a   blow   on   her   head!     "Jump   into   the   tub!" 


30  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

The  little  one  screams  out  in  pain  and  terror.  And  the 
older  one  places  two  hands,  one  on  the  child's  head  and 
one  on  her  mouth  to  gag  her,  and  fiercely  shakes  her, 
ordering  her  to  cease  her  outcry.  If  she  tries  to  resist 
or  screams  again,  there  goes  a  big  slap  across  her  back, 
with  the  words,  "Am  I  your  parent's  slave?  Go  and 
call  your  own  mother  or  sister  to  work  for  you!  You'll 
see  how  I'll  wash  you  to-day!  Sent  back  to  make  you 
clean!  You'll  see  rubbing  to-day."  Then  she  takes 
the  wash-cloth,  and  puts  a  lot  of  soap  on  it,  and  begins 
to  rub  it  all  over  the  child's  face,  purposely  to  make  it 
go  into  her  eyes.  Then  roughly  about  her  ears  and 
neck  as  harshly  as  she  can,  so  as  to  give  her  pain.  Even 
if  the  child  protests,  saying,  *'Ndo;  nkaza!  "  (But;  pain) 
she  replies,  "Nkaza!  nkaza!  where  do  you  see  pain?" 
[Native  idiom  "Sees"  joy,  pain,  &c.]  "Why!  you  are 
holding  the  back  of  my  neck  so  tight  that  it  hurts  me 
while  you're  rubbing."  "Didn't  you  tell  the  Mistress 
that  you  washed  yourself?  And  here  I've  been  sent  to 
wash  you.  Now,  I  will  wash  you  in  very  truth."  After 
the  washing  is  finished,  she  is  taken  again  to  be  examined 
by  the  teacher;  and  the  clean  clothes  are  put  on.  But 
the  big  girl  has  not  finished  yet  with  her  spite  on  the 
little  one.  She  gives  her  a  dread  to  hang  over  her  all 
of  Sunday.  "You'll  see  on  Monday,  about  your  wash- 
ing." 

Early  on  Monday  morning  the  little  ones  always 
brought  a  required  number  of  buckets  for  their  "mothers" 
to  fill  up  the  tubs.  The  first  thing  then  done  would  be  for 
the  big  ones  to  pick  out  their  little  ones'  under-clothing 
to  put  into  soak.  This  was  superintended  by  the  mis- 
sionary.    Then  the  washing  would  commence  while  the 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  31 

missionaries  went  into  their  breakfast.  The  favorite 
Httle  ones  stood  near  while  their  "mothers"  finished 
each  piece,  and  would  take  it  to  spread  it  out  to  bleach 
in  the  sun,  previous  to  the  final  rinsing.  Then  the  big 
girls  would  take  the  chance,  while  the  Teacher  was  away 
at  breakfast,  and  called  the  unfavored  little  ones  to  do  the 
washing  of  their  little  garments,  instead  of  themselves, 
though  those  children  were  unable  to  do  it.  With  the  idea 
that  soap,  and  not  rubbing,  does  the  cleaning,  the  little 
one  rubs  on  soap  wastefuUy,  and  is  sharply  chidden. 
** Don't  put  on  so  much  soap!"  "But  I  am  not  able  to 
rub  this  petticoat  clean  by  my  own  strength."  "How 
then  do  you  expect  it  to  be  done  ?  Call  your  own  mother 
and  sister!  "  Presently  the  little  one  timidly  says,  "I'm 
done.  Is  it  clean?"  "Isala  nyame!  "  (What  do  I  care.) 
If  it  is  finished,  then  it  is  finished.  Go  and  spread  it 
out  on  the  grass."  Sometimes  it  would  really  be  fin- 
ished; but  if  it  is  not,  the  child  is  told,  "It's  not  done; 
You'll  stand  there  till  it's  clean.  Go  on,  till  I  choose  to 
help  you."  Then  when  the  older  one  chooses  to  be  ready, 
the  garment  is  rudely  snatched,  as  she  says,  "Now,  bring 
it;  and  go  for  more  water."  Then  she  would  rub  over  it 
a  little,  perhaps  not  cleaning  it  thoroughly,  and  say, 
"It's  done."  Some  times  the  teacher  happened  to  pass 
by  while  the  little  one  was  standing  working  at  the  tub; 
and  seeing  what  was  going  on,  would  order  her,  "That's 
not  your  place!  Go  away! "  and  would  add  to  the  older 
one,  "  You  did  not  do  your  own  washing  when  you  were 
small;  it  was  done  for  you  by  another."  Sometimes  the 
impertinent  reply  would  be,  "But  it  was  not  this  one 
who  did  it  for  me;  why  should  I  make  her  a  return?" 
That  was  not  often  said  to  Mrs.  Bushnell.     It  would  be 


32  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

said  to  younger  and  newer  teachers  who  did  not  under- 
stand the  Mpongwe  language.  The  teacher  would  ask, 
"What's  that?"  "I  said  it  was  not  she  who  worked  for 
me  when  I  was  a  child.  I  was  scolded  on  Saturday  for 
her  sake;  and  don't  want  to  be  scolded  again  on  her 
accoimt.  If  I  am  to  be  scolded  for  her,  let  her  leave  me. 
I  won't  work  for  her.  I'm  tired  of  trouble  about  her.  My 
parents  did  not  send  me  here  to  be  her  slave."  Then 
there  would  be  punishment  for  her  impertinence,  if  her 
words  had  been  understood.  Or,  if  not  tmderstood,  the 
teacher  would  only  tell  her  to  be  silent ;  and  would  go  on 
with  her  own  work,  in  the  house.  So,  that  ends  Monday's 
trouble;  unless,  after  the  washing,  the  teacher  should 
happen  to  examine  each  garment  carefully.  Whatever 
was  not  quite  clean  enough  for  rinsing,  she  put  back 
again  into  the  tub.  Sometimes,  when  she  was  too 
busy,  that  was  not  done  on  Monday  morning;  and 
ironing  (of  the  children's  clothes  only)  was  started  in 
the  afternoon.  But,  coming  on  Tuesday,  to  exam- 
ine and  pick  out  pieces  for  mending,  the  imperfect 
washing  would  be  revealed.  Then,  after  the  morning 
school  on  Tuesday,  at  noon,  all  would  be  called  and 
directed  to  go  around  and  see  what  was  not  perfectly 
clean.  Young  and  old  would  start  to  see.  Then 
the  big  ones  began  to  pick  out  what  belonged  to  their 
little  ones,  and  holding  up  each  piece,  would  say  to  Mis- 
tress, "I  see  it's  all  clean;  Where  is  it  dirty?"  [Held 
one  way,  it  looked  clean.]  But  the  teacher  would  hold 
it  up  to  the  light,  and  show  streaks  on  the  binding  or 
skirt.  No  one,  big  or  little,  liked  that.  The  big  would 
grumble,  "To  have  the  trouble  to  wash  and  dry  and  iron 
even  this  my  own  garment  over  again! "    And  the  little 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  33 

ones  would  dread  when  the  call  came ;  for ;  if  it  were  their 
garment  that  was  condemned,  the  greater  trouble  would 
fall  on  them,  their  ** mothers"  saying,  "If  this  call  is 
just  to  wash  over  a  small  garment,  the  owner  had  better 
look  out!  "  So  that  week  would  be  made  a  hard  one  for 
the  neglected  little  one,  by  its  "mother"  taking  away 
its  ration  of  fish  when  the  teacher  was  absent.  The  child 
would  not  dare  to  inform  on  her.  **  If  you  tell  the  teacher, 
or  make  a  fuss,  I'll  be  sure  what  I'll  do  to  you. "  The 
child  then  with  tears  in  her  eyes  would  begin  to  eat  her 
bare  cassava-bread  or  plaint ain  without  meat.  And  some- 
times this  child  would  be  called  before  the  big  ones  to  be 
teased  or  tormented,  until  she  cried,  and  they  rejoiced 
in  her  tears.  While  this  goes  on,  so  hard  for  the  little 
one,  she  would  watch  to  see  whether  any  other  "big 
girl "  was  disposed  to  be  kind  to  her.  If  so,  she  would  try 
to  be  by  her  side,  and  timidly  say,  "I  see  you  are  very 
kind.  I  wish  it  was  you,  instead  of  the  other,  to  care 
for  me!  I  will  be  so  glad  if  you  will  take  me! "  Then, 
if  that  big  girl  was  willing,  the  smaller  would  go  and  ask 
Mistress,  "I  want  this  big  girl  to  care  for  me;  she  likes 
me;  and  I  like  her.  "  The  Mistress  generally  was  willing. 
Sometimes  the  change  was  made  by  the  Mistress  herself, 
in  order  to  keep  up  the  number  of  those  in  charge  of  some 
particular  girl.  Sometimes,  too,  a  big  girl  was  kind 
enough  voluntarily  to  add  one  little  one  more  beyond 
her  own  number. 

At  this,  the  little  one  would  be  very  glad.  And  in  a 
few  weeks,  you  could  see  the  change  in  her  face  and  entire 
body.  All  her  sad  face  and  anxious  neart  gone.  She  felt 
herself  saved!  She  would  be  sure  at  the  next  nkangana 
(promenade)  to  the  villages,  to  teU  her  parents  of  the 

THE  BnobffiisnaERUMiinm  ubrmiy 


34  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

change:  that  the  **new  'mother'  is  kind  to  me."  And 
sometimes  she  went  and  asked  her  parents  for  a  present 
for  the  "small  mother"  in  the  mission-yard.  Some- 
times her  own  mother  from  the  village  would  come  and 
thank  the  big  girl;  and  would  cook  a  nice  dinner  for 
that  girl  and  her  child. 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  35 

Tale,  No.  3. 
A   Day's    Doings:    First    Half. 

THE  first  thing  was  to  get  up  and  out  of  our  room 
before  6  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Then,  the  first 
work  for  us  was  to  go  and  bring,  each  of  us,  four 
buckets  of  water  for  the  missionary's  kitchen  and  house- 
hold use  for  the  day.  And  then  we  were  to  tidy  up  our- 
selves for  morning-prayers.  After  prayers,  there  were 
always  some  who  had  not  finished  the  carrying  of  their 
specified  quantity  of  water;  for,  there  were  not  enough 
buckets  for  all  to  be  carrying  at  one  time.  These  would 
go  and  complete  their  number  of  bucket fuls. 

Then,  the  larger  girls  were  divided  off;  two  to  go  and 
cook  the  school  breakfast,  two  by  turns  each  week. 
Two  to  set  the  table  for  the  missionaries'  breakfast. 
And  others,  two  by  two,  to  fix  up  the  bedroom  and 
bathroom  of  each  missionary,  of  whom  there  might  be 
three  or  six.  And  one  to  sweep  and  order  the  "Parlor," 
[So-called;  the  Mission  public  Sitting-room.]  And  two 
to  fix  up  the  Girls'  dormitory. 

Some  of  the  little  ones  were  sent  to  sweep  the  paths 
in  the  yard,  and  about  the  girls'  kitchen.  All  this  was  to 
be  finished  by  8  o'clock. 

Eight  A.  M.  was  the  breakfast  time  for  the  school- 
girls. We  were  required  to  be  prompt,  but  those  who 
happened  to  have  more  or  unusual  work,  and  who  had 
not  finished  it  by  8  o'clock,  were  allowed  to  come  to  the 
table  five  or  eight  minutes  later  than  the  others.  There 
were  only  just  so  many  minutes  allowed  for  our  eating. 
It  was  not  a  wise  or  good  or  just  plan.     Being  too  short 


36  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

a  time,  it  made  trouble.  It  was  the  cause  of  many  a 
day's  confusion  for  the  Teacher.  (If  she  had  only 
known  the  real  reason!)  It  was  unhealthful  for  the 
girls'  stomachs.  Eating  hastily,  it  made  them  greedy  and 
ill-mannered,*  and  it  left  them  dissatisfied;  for,  it  was  so 
unlike  their  own  native  way  in  their  villages,  where 
they  ate  slowly,  and  spent  time  in  conversation.  There 
was  sometimes  a  teacher  who,  having  finished  her  own 
earlier  breakfast  (and  for  which  she  had  allowed  herself 
ample  time),  would  nevertheless  watch  the  clock  against 
the  girls.  When  the  allowed  fifteen  minutes  of  the  girls 
were  up,  she  would  ring  a  bell  for  every  one  to  leave  the 
table.  If  the  table  was  not  left  promptly  in  a  minute 
or  two,  she  would  ring  the  bell  again,  or  would  come  out, 
either  herself  or  the  Mistress,  to  send  the  children  away 
from  the  table.  Which  meant  that  she  would  seize  the 
plates  and  fling  away  their  remaining  contents  of  food. 
It  was  the  rule  that  those  who  had  had  to  come  late 
should  first  notify  the  teacher  before  they  sat  down, 
**I  had  to  come  late.  I  am  only  just  now  going  to  sit 
down."  Then,  when  the  teacher  was  driving  off  others, 
she  would  observe  these,  and  acknowledge  that  they 
had  a  right  to  remain  longer.  Sometimes  she  did  not 
throw  away  the  contents  of  a  plate,  if  she  saw  it  had 
only  been  partly  eaten,  but  would  shove  it  to  one  side. 
Its  share  of  oguma  (cassava-bread)  would  be  left  lying 
on  it.  These  pieces  would  be  saved  for  the  child's  after- 
noon meal,  the  afternoon  ration  being  diminished 
thereby.  [The  school  children  were  given  but  two 
meals  a  day,  and  often  meagre  ones  at  that;  the  mis- 
sionary in  charge  eating  three  meals,  and  apparently 
forgetting    that    growing    children,     especially    school 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  37 

children,  need  almost  as  much  food  as  an  adult.]  As 
on  the  plate  were  the  soup  and  remnants  of  fish,  the 
oguma,  lying,  soaking  in  it  till  late  in  the  afternoon, 
would  become  nasty. 

Sometimes  a  late  girl  had  notified  the  Mistress  and 
not  the  teacher.  When  the  latter  would  attempt  to 
hurry  her  up,  and  would  start  to  seize  her  plate,  the  girl 
would  resist,  saying,  "Don't  take  away  my  food;  I  am 
only  just  now  come.  I  was  busy  in  the  rooms."  If  the 
teacher  said,  "No!  no!  it  is  time  for  the  table  to  be 
cleared,  so  as  to  have  all  things,  plates  and  crumbs 
cleared  and  washed  before  school."  Then  the  girl,  if 
she  was  not  of  a  stubborn  disposition  and  did  not  wish 
contention,  would  quietly  get  up,  and  go  and  complain 
to  the  Mistress.  She  was  just,  and  would  say  the  girl 
was  right,  and  should  be  allowed  to  finish  her  meal  at 
the  table.  This  the  teacher  would  not  like;  she  felt 
ashamed  at  being  in  fault.  Sometimes  a  girl  failed  to 
make  notification  to  either  Mistress  or  teacher  of  having 
been  detained  at  some  work,  forgetting  in  her  hurry  as 
she  was  just  going  to  eat.  Then  when  the  teacher  is 
snatching  away  her  plate,  and  the  girl  resists,  the 
former,  unwilling  to  excuse  the  girl's  failure  to  notify, 
will  say,  "No!  you  must  have  been  here  a  long  time." 
The  girl  will  say,  "No!  yourself  saw  me  sweeping  in 
the  rooms,  or  serving  at  your  mission-table,  till  just 
now."  But  the  teacher  would  not  yield  to  let  her  have 
her  food,  and  takes  away  the  plate.  Such  injustice  al- 
ways was  followed  by  trouble.  The  girl  would  protest, 
"After  you  have  kept  me  busy  at  the  work  of  your  room 
or  making  up  your  bed,  you  will  now  deprive  me  of  my 
food,   and  make  me  go  hungry  all  day  till  after  four 


38  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

o'clock  this  afternoon!  I  will  be  ugly  in  morning  school, 
and  will  not  do  any  sewing  at  two  o'clock  sewing- 
school!" 

After  the  morning  works  are  all  finished,  then  comes 
the  first  bell  for  school  at  8.45  A.  M.  Wash  hands  and 
face,  to  be  ready  for  the  second  bell,  at  9  A.  M.  sharp! 
Teacher  is  standing  at  the  school  door.  Every  one  was 
to  be  in,  within  five  minutes;  for,  after  the  five  minutes 
were  up,  the  door  was  locked  for  a  little  while.  There 
would  be  always  a  rush  at  the  last  minute.  Most  of  our 
teachers  would  let  a  late  comer  in,  delaying  the  closing 
of  the  door  if  a  girl  was  seen  to  be  near.  But  there 
were  one  or  two  who  were  so  very  strict  about  every 
little  thing  that  they  would  never  yield  a  second  of  time. 
Their  strictness  constantly  got  themselves  into  trouble. 
Girls  always  took  revenge  on  them.  Such  teachers  would 
sometimes  shut  the  door  in  the  very  faces  of  even  half 
a  dozen  girls,  replying  to  their  breathless,  "Wait!  please!  " 
"No!  you're  late!"  And  they  had  to  stand  outside 
there  during  roll-call  and  the  other  opening  exercises. 
Then  the  door  was  opened;  and  those  outside  were  let 
in  with  some  slight  punishment,  generally  a  single 
stroke  of  the  whip.  If  it  was  not  this,  it  was  to  stand 
up  five  minutes  before  taking  one's  seat.  This  the 
girls  did  not  like,  saying,  "I  was  just  at  the  very  door, 
and  you  pushed  me  out  as  if  you  wanted  a  chance  to 
punish  me! "  Then,  lessons  will  begin.  The  order  of 
exercises,  after  the  opening,  was  writing  in  copy-books, 
or  a  composition;  Reading  in  English  or  Mpongwe,  and 
translating  from  one  into  the  other;  Spelling  in  the 
book  called  "Scholar's  Companion;"  Georgraphy;  His- 
tory,    Natural    philosophy;      English     grammar;      and 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  39 

Anatomy  and  physiology.  Only  the  higher  classes 
studied  all  these;  and  time  was  given  between  for  reci- 
tation. The  last  lesson  was  Arithmetic  ;  and  school 
closed  with  Singing.  But,  during  the  three  hours,  there 
was  often  some  disorder.  Some  will  be  whispering  about 
some  arrangement,  e.  g.  "After  school  we'll  do  this  and 
that."  And  some  will  begin  a  quarrel,  whispering  in  a 
low  voice,  which  perhaps  will  end  in  a  promise  to  fight  as 
soon  as  school  dismisses.  Some  times  they  did  not 
wait,  and  the  fight  would  begin  even  in  school,  by  a 
pinch  of  a  sharp  finger-nail.  This  pinching  will  go  on 
for  a  minute  or  two,  then  comes  a  stroke  or  a  blow. 
This  attracts  the  teacher's  notice,  and  she  calls  them 
up.  The  teacher  will  inquire,  and  each  will  tell  her 
version  of  how  the  quarrel  began.  Then  the  teacher 
will  endeavor  to  settle  it,  and  try  to  make  them  shake 
hands  and  kiss.  [Kissing  was  not  a  native  custom, 
and  the  girls  disliked  it.]  Most  of  the  time,  one  of  the 
two  is  ready  to  do  this,  but  the  other  will  not  yield. 
The  one  will  say,  "Yes!  I  am  ready  to  make  peace,"  and 
extends  her  hand.  But  the  other  looks  crossly  at  her, 
and  folds  her  arms  tightly.  Then  the  teacher  will  say, 
"Now!  this  one  is  ready  for  you;  put  down  your  hand." 
The  other  throws  her  arm  stiffly  down  by  her  side,  but 
does  not  extend  her  hand,  and  defiantly  says,  "Yes! 
here's  my  hand! "  The  one  takes  the  unextended  hand, 
kisses  the  cheek,  and  goes  to  her  seat,  the  other  standing 
all  unwilling.  Then  the  ugly-behaving  one  has  to 
stand  there  a  long  time,  or  be  punished  before  she  is 
allowed  to  go  to  her  seat. 

After  the  final  singing  at  twelve  o'clock,  there  is  a 
rush  to  the  door,  and  a  yell  on  emerging.     Then,  for  two 


40  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

hours,  from  twelve  to  two  P.  M.  the  girls  will  occupy 
themselves  in  various  ways.  Some  will  begin  to  start  a 
play.  Some,  companies  of  three  or  four  friends,  would 
concoct  a  plan  to  make  up  for  any  breakfast  that  had 
been  lost.  [Coming  from  school  hungry,  and  with  no 
food  in  prospect  till  four  P.  M.,  even  honest  girls  were 
driven  to  lie  and  steal.  Those  who  arranged  the  plan 
of  two  scant  meals  per  day  (and  one  of  those  often  con- 
fiscated) did  not  think  how  they  drove  the  children  into 
duplicity  under  childhood's  pangs  of  hunger.]  Two  of 
them  would  agree  to  secretly  run  away  to  their  village 
home,  and  other  two  should  keep  watch  for  what  might 
happen.  This  would  be  while  the  missionaries  were  at 
their  own  twelve  o'clock  dinner.  The  plan  would  be, 
"  You  watch  for  me,  while  I  am  away ;  and  if  I  am  called, 
answer  for  my  name."  Even  a  child  who  had  no  special 
friends  would  offer  to  do  the  running  away  in  order  to  be 
given  a  share  of  whatever  food  was  obtained.  She  would 
say,  "You  keep  watch  for  me  to-day,  I'll  keep  watch  for 
you  to-morrow."  "Yes,  go,  but  don't  be  long."  Then 
always,  as  soon  as  the  bell  rang  for  the  missionary  dinner, 
or  even  before,  as  many  as  a  dozen  girls  would  slip  through 
the  fence,  and  be  off  to  their  villages  to  ask  for  food. 
Some  would  succeed  in  running  back  in  time;  others 
would  be  late  just  in  time  to  hear  the  rattle  of  chairs  as 
they  were  pushed  back  at  the  close  of  the  meal  from  the 
missionary  table.  They  would  slink  behind  the  tall 
prairie  grass  at  the  rear  of  the  school-house  and  creep 
through  the  fence.  Sometimes  their  village  was  far, 
or,  finding  their  mother  with  a  pot  on  the  fire,  they  would 
wait.  They  would  not  come  back  with  a  raw  plantain, 
that  would  be  useless;    for  they  would  not  be  allowed 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  41 

to  go  to  the  Mistress'  kitchen  to  cook  it;  they  had  no 
fire  in  their  own  kitchen  between  meals ;  and  a  raw  plan- 
tain would  reveal  the  fact  that  they  had  been  off  the 
premises  without  permission.  If  any  girl  happened  to 
be  called  for  by  the  missionary,  the  while  she  was  away 
at  her  village,  her  watcher-friend  would  assert  she  was 
on  the  premises,  and  would  have  an  excuse  ready  for  her. 
The  excuse  was  generally  "a  necessity  of  nature."  If  the 
absent  one  shortly  afterward  was  called  for  a  second 
time,  the  friend  will  ask,  "What  is  needed?  I'll  do  it 
for  you."  But,  if  the  absentee  happened  to  be  needed 
for  some  house  job,  which  the  friend  was  not  accustomed 
to  do,  she  will  go  to  the  end  of  the  yard  and  shout,  "  Re- 
kadie!  o  biya?"  (Such  an  one!  Come  thou?),  the  while 
that  she  knows  the  other  is  not  within  hearing.  Some- 
times she  will  have  another  girl  hidden,  ready  to  reply; 
or  even  she  will  change  her  voice  and  reply  to  herself 
for  the  absent  one.  The  teacher,  becoming  restless, 
will  perhaps  ask  the  watcher-friend,  "Have  you  called 
her?"  "Yes,  she's  coming."  (the  while  she  is  still  in 
the  village.)  "But,  where  is  she?"  " I  thought  I  heard 
her  answer.  I  do  not  know  the  reason  she  has  not  come." 
By  that  time  the  watcher  has  sent  another  girl  to  creep 
through  the  fence,  and  see  whether  the  absentee  is  com- 
ing. Then  this  one  will  run  very  rapidly  and  go  to  the 
village  and  tell  her  she  is  wanted.  "Am  I  called?" 
"Yes,  three  times."  "Aiye-e-e!  (Alas!)  Try  to  help 
me.  Gather  with  me  some  dry  sticks  for  fire."  When 
the  little  fire-wood  is  gathered,  the  absentee  says,  "You 
carry  my  food,  and  hide  as  you  go  into  the  yard." 
While  herself  comes  openly  carrying  the  bundle  of  sticks. 
She  goes  to  the  teacher,  and  with  assumed  innocence, 


42  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

says,  "I  hear  that  I  was  called.  Was  I  wanted?  I  was 
away  gathering  fire  wood  for  the  afternoon  meal."  [An 
allowable  reason  for  going  off  premises.] 

Sometimes  the  teacher,  suspecting  that  the  girl  called 
for  is  away  at  her  village,  will  be  watching  which  way 
she  will  be  returning,  whether  by  the  front  or  the  back 
way.  The  girl  when  detected,  tries  to  tell  a  consistent 
story,  "  I  was  away  for  my  bowels,  and  was  hindered  by 
a  bad  diarrhoea,  and  since  then  have  been  gathering 
firewood."  But,  the  teacher  sees  the  lie;  and  some- 
times juct  because  it  was  such  a  foolish  lie,  lets  it  go; 
sometimes  she  would  give  her  a  good  scolding. 

Sometimes  the  absentee,  on  returning,  would  plainly 
tell  the  truth,  "I  was  hungry,  and  I  went  to  my  native 
village  to  try  to  get  something  to  eat."  Whatever  food 
the  absentee  brought  with  her,  she  divided  with  her 
watcher-friend.  Those  who  had  remained  at  plays, 
were  playing  tag,  or  climbing  the  mangoe  trees  and  swing- 
ing from  their  sweeping  branches,  or  at  kinta-kinta 
(See-saw)  on  the  low  spreading  limbs  of  the  guava 
bushes. 

At  two  P.  M.  was  the  time  for  Sewing- school. 


tales  out  of  school.  43 

Tale,  No.  4. 
A    Day's    Doings,  Second    Half. 

AT  Two  P.  M.  we  all  went  into  Sewing  Class,  for  two 
hours ; .  making  our  dresses  and  other  clothing, 
and  clothes  for  the  Boys'  School,  and  mending 
for  the  entire  two  schools. 

The  small  children  were  occupied  only  in  sewing 
together  little  pieces  of  cloth,  like  oboi  (patchwork), 
just  so  that  they  might  learn  to  handle  the  needle. 

Hardly  any  trouble  would  occur  during  those  two 
hours;  nor  any  confusion  (for  we  were  not  forbidden 
to  talk  or  move  about)  except  for  those  who  made 
mistakes  in  their  sewing.  Then  they  had  to  rip  it  out, 
and  do  it  over  again.  At  that,  they  would  cry.  There 
was  much  difference  in  our  skill.  Some  knew  how  to  sew 
better  and  faster  than  the  others;  some  were  good 
button-hole  makers;  some  were  known  for  their  felling; 
some  for  their  fine  stitching;  some  had  skill  to  hem,  to 
back-stitch,  or  to  fasten  on  buttons  strongly.  Those 
who  sewed  buttons  on  weakly,  were  to  take  them  off 
again.  Some  had  skill  in  cutting;  and  knew  how  to 
save  material,  by  a  judicious  adjusting  of  the  patterns. 

Just  before  Sewing-school  closed,  all  were  required  to 
put  away  their  needles  safely  in  a  piece  of  cloth,  and  their 
thimbles  in  a  little  box,  so  they  might  not  be  lost.  They 
were  to  carefully  fold  each  her  work,  and  lay  it  aside 
in  a  basket.  But  some,  whenever  they  had  any  sewing 
of  their  own  outside  of  school  hours,  such  as  a  pillow-case 
or  a  torn  night-cloth  to  be  mended;  or,  garment  for 
their   own   towns-people,    would   like   to    covertly   take 


44  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

their  needle  and  thread  outside.  Then,  of  course,  they 
were  apt  to  get  in  trouble ;  for,  the  needle  would  probably 
be  lost  or  broken  or  stolen,  and  the  transgressor  would 
have  to  hunt  awhile  for  the  old  needle  before  she  was 
given  a  new  one. 

Now,  the  sewing  is  finished!  School  usually  closed 
with  a  hymn ;  and  we  went  out  at  four  P.M.  Then  began 
some  works  for  the  missionary  household,  and  for  our 
own  kitchen;  such  as  carrying  water  for  the  mission  bed- 
rooms, emptying  slops,  and  fixing  up  our  own  bedding. 
After  that  came  our  supper  at  five  P.  M.  The  rations 
of  oguma  (cassava-bread)  were  given  out  at  such  a  num- 
ber by  count,  so  that  each  pupil  should  have  half  a  roll, 
and  a  piece  of  fish.  The  oguma-roUs  varied  in  size.  If 
they  were  large,  and  were  properly  divided,  one  was 
sufficient  to  satisfy  three  small  children;  ordinarily, 
they  were  sufficient  for  only  two. 

Sometimes,  instead  of  oguma,  we  had  akanda  (plan- 
tains) or  rice.  But,  often,  the  smaller  children  did  not 
get  their  full  share  of  the  food.  As  we  did  the  work  by 
turns,  each  week  there  was  one  big  girl  assigned  to  do  the 
division,  with  one  little  one  to  assist  her.  Of  course, 
the  big  girl  actually  did  the  dividing.  She  would  almost 
always  give  the  big  girls  a  double  portion;  that  made 
much  less  the  share  falling  to  the  younger  ones.  So,  by 
the  time  we  had  finished  eating,  some  of  the  younger 
would  be  half  crying,  "M'  pa  jora! "  (I've  not  filled.) 
[The  little  ones  at  school  suffered  much  thus  from  actual 
hunger;  for,  in  their  native  villages,  not  only  did  they 
eat  to  satisfaction,  but  even  to  satiety.] 

But  this  division  was  not  always  the  same  every  day. 
By  some  of  the  big  girls  the  division  was  better  and  more 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  45 

fairly  made.  Sometimes,  one  of  the  smaller  girls  would 
be  brave  enough  to  privately  go  to  the  Mistress,  and 
tell  her  of  the  unfair  portioning  that  was  going  on.  Or, 
sometimes,  a  child  would  go  to  the  Mistress,  and  ask  her 
for  something  to  eat  between  meals.  Then  the  latter 
will  ask  the  reason,  "Why  are  you  hungry?"  And  the 
child  will  confess,  "We  little  girls  do  not  have  enough." 
Then  sometimes  the  Mistress  would  come,  and,  if  she 
had  time,  would  stand  by,  the  while  the  food  was  being 
divided,  or,  would  divide  it  herself.  Then  every  one 
will  have  her  full  share.  [The  double  share  unjustly 
taken  by  the  big  girls,  they  used  to  keep  over  for  lunches 
between  meals.]  Then,  after  the  Mistress  had  divided, 
she  would  ask  the  blessing  (or,  if  she  was  not  there,  it 
would  be  asked  by  one  of  the  older  girls) .  Perhaps  she 
would  stay  there  a  few  minutes  after  we  began  to  eat, 
and  then  she  would  go.  While  she  was  remaining  stand- 
ing by  us,  the  little  ones  would  eat  as  rapidly  as  they 
cotdd,  so  that  they  might  be  at  least  half  through  before 
she  left  them.  Because,  sometimes  things  did  not  go 
qtiite  straight  after  she  left;  for,  after  she  was  gone, 
almost  every  big  girl  would  fix  her  hands  on  the  plate 
of  a  little  one,  saying,  "Did  you  think  you  would  get? 
You  won't  get!  "  With  that,  a  portion  of  the  little  one's 
food  was  snatched  away. 

After  eating,  tables  were  cleared;  and  the  dish- 
washers stood  at  their  washing.  And,  if  it  is  a  fine 
weather  for  nkangana  (promenade),  out  we  will  go! 

We  come  back  in  time  for  the  six  o'clock  sun-set 
evening  prayers.  After  prayers,  we  begin  our  evening 
plays,  sometimes  by  ourselves,  sometimes  with  the  Mis- 
tress to  teach  us  games.      Sometimes  we    played   only 


46  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

native  plays  and  native  songs;  and  sometimes  the 
teacher  would  teach  us  foreign  plays  and  kindergarten, 
songs.  We  enjoyed  these  little  plays  very  much  before 
going  in  for  the  night. 

Sometimes  we  would  ask  for  oranges  from  the  mission 
trees,  or  other  fruit  in  its  season,  just  before  turning  in 
for  the  night.  These  we  were  to  eat  on  the  spot,  as  we 
were  not  allowed  to  take  food  into  the  bedroom. 

About  seven  o'clock,  the  youngest  of  the  children  were 
all  put  to  bed  [it  being  by  that  time  dark  night].  The 
elder  ones,  who  were  allowed  to  sit  up,  went  into  the 
missionary  dining-room,  where  were  lights  on  the  table. 
Some  would  begin  to  prepare  to-morrow's  sewing  work, 
cutting  out  and  basting;  and  others  doing  some  little 
sewing  for  themselves,  or  reading  sometimes  aloud. 
Sometimes  we  had  a  few  lessons  to  learn,  to  have  them 
ready  for  recitation  the  first  thing  in  morning  school. 
At  nine  P.  M.,  or  a  little  before,  it  was  bed-time  for 
these  older  ones. 

At  night,  when  we  had  gone  to  bed,  there  would  be  the 
usual  story-telling,  fairy  tales,  or  ghost  stories.  These 
would  make  some  of  the  timid  children  more  than  half 
afraid.  Then  one  or  two  of  the  most  mischievous  ones 
would  plot  to  tease  or  frighten  the  others  (for,  lights 
were  not  allowed  in  the  room) .  They  would  creep  softly 
from  their  sleeping-place,  and  pull  some  one's  cloth  or 
toe;  or,  one  would  go  and  stand  in  a  comer  with  a 
white  cloth  to  represent  ibambo  (ghost).  Then  those 
whose  toes  had  been  pulled  would  scream,  "A!  a —  a — , 
mangi  sina!  (You  fellows)  I  am  caught  by  ezama  (some 
Thing)!"  Some  of  the  serious  ones  would  doubt,  say- 
ing, "Zele!  pa  koto  n*  oma! "     (Not  so!  no  person  has 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  47 

been  caught).  As  soon  as  the  conspirator  had  pulled  a 
toe,  she  has  crept  away  to  another  spot,  and  has  pulled 
some  one  else,  who  screams  out,  "Sambo!  "  (Indeed)  that 
one  has  told  the  truth,  for  I  too  am  pulled!  "  By  this 
time  the  room  is  in  confusion.  Some  one  goes  to  the 
blinds  of  the  window-shutters  to  pull  them  down,  and 
let  in  a  little  starlight.  And  voices  cry,  "Who  did  it? 
Who  did  it?"  Some  reply,  "Not  I!  I  haven't  left  my 
place.  I'm  lying  down."  At  last,  by  the  faint  light, 
the  conspirator  with  the  white  cloth  is  seen  still  standing 
in  the  corner.  Now,  by  this  time,  some  one  starts  up, 
"Mangi  sina!  (You  fellows!)  I  see  a  white  Thing!" 
"Where?  where?  Which  way?"  is  asked  from  every 
side.  Others  will  begin,  "Yes;  It's  on  this  side."  "I've 
seen  it."  By  this  time  the  Thing  has  begun  slowly  to 
move.  Every  one  is  frightened,  and  all  are  up  on  their 
feet;  all  starting,  not  toward  that  white  ibambo,  but 
toward  the  door.  Some  who  were  still  sleeping  through 
the  confusion  are  awakened  by  the  others  pushing  them, 
"Get  up!  a  Thing  is  seen!  "  Now  it's  time  for  shouting 
and  yelling  with  real  fear.  They  are  calling  for  the 
Mistress,  "A!  a —  a,  Mammy  i — i — O!  Mammy — 0! 
here  is  seen  a  ghost!  Aiye — ^i — i — i!  "  By  this  time 
the  ibambo  has  a  fine  chance  to  throw  off  its  ghost- 
apparel,  and  join  the  others,  shouting  with  them  as 
if  she  too  were  frightened.  For,  she  dares  not  stand 
there  in  that  comer  until  the  Mistress  comes  with  the 
light.  The  light  comes.  Those  who  had  made  the 
plot  are  half  laughing  and  smiling,  for  they  know  all 
about  it,  while  the  others  do  not.  Then,  after  the  Mis- 
tress has  looked  into  every  comer,  she  says,  "There's 
nothing!  Go,  each  to  your  own  place,  and  lie  down! " 
And  all  go  to  their  places;  and  soon  fall  asleep. 


48  tales  out  of  school. 

Tale,  No.   5. 
Rules    and   Black   Marks. 

IN  school,  there  were  rules  to  be  obeyed.  But  they 
were  not  always  the  same.  They  were  changed  by 
different  teachers,  and  by  new  missionaries  in  charge. 
There  was  one  rule  that  did  not  last  many  years.  It 
was  changed  because  it  proved  to  be  an  unwise  one,  being 
the  source  of  constant  trouble,  complaint,  insubordina- 
tion and  punishment.  That  was  the  rule  that  strictly 
allowed  only  fifteen  minutes  for  the  girls'  morning  meal, 
with  confiscation  of  the  contents  of  the  plate  of  any  girl 
who  had  not  finished  eating  within  that  time. 

Another  rule  that  was  constantly  broken  was,  that 
there  should  be  no  eating  between  meals.  The  rule 
might  have  been  kept  if  the  ration  given  twice  a  day  had 
not  been  so  scant.  At  best  it  was  not  a  good  regulation. 
Those  who  made  it  seemed  not  to  remember  that  a  child's 
hunger  is  hard  to  be  borne.  A  third  rule  was  that  we  were 
not,  without  permission,  to  take  fruit  from  the  oranges, 
limes,  mangoes,  or  other  trees  planted  by  the  mission 
in  the  mission  compound.  It  was  a  proper  rtde.  It  was 
not  that  the  missionaries  were  not  willing  we  should  have 
a  share  in  their  fruits.  Indeed,  faithfully  carried  out,  it 
would  have  assured  every  one  of  us,  big  and  little,  a  fair 
share.  It  was  to  prevent  our  eating  unripe  fruit,  or  even 
ripe  fruit  in  excess.  As  to  the  limes,  it  was  true  that  they 
were  used  by  the  children  in  excess,  and  then  they  were 
injurious.  But  it  was  impossible  to  enforce  this  rule.  The 
trees  were  ever  in  our  paths;  the  fruit  was  abundant; 
the  opportunities  for  taking  were  so  constant  and  easy; 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  49 

the  temptation  was  too  great.  The  rule  was  a  constant 
source  of  trouble  to  both  the  children  and  the  mission- 
aries. 

A  fourth  rule  concerned  the  front  gate.  We  were  not 
to  go  outside  of  it,  nor  even  to  it ;  not  even  if  we  saw  our 
relatives  coming  to  visit  us.  We  were  to  await  them  in- 
side the  yard.  And,  on  their  leaving,  we  were  not  to  es- 
cort them  farther  than  that  gate.  Nor  were  we  to  stand  at 
that  gate  to  watch  passersby.  Yet,  we  dearly  loved  to 
swing  on  that  gate ! 

A  fifth  rule  concerned  the  braiding  of  the  asara  (chig- 
nons) of  our  hair.  To  plait  hair  neatly  and  firmly  required 
skill.  Not  all  knew  how  to  do  it.  But  all  were  required 
to  learn.  On  Saturday  afternoons,  before  the  bath-hour, 
the  teacher  came  to  count  how  many  heads  needed  to  be 
braided.  Then  she  named  those  larger  ones  who  each 
should  plait  for  one  smaller  one ;  and  pairs  of  large  ones 
who  should  plait  for  each  other.  These  native  asara  will 
last  a  long  time,  even  several  weeks,  if  well  and  firmly 
done.  But  the  Mistress,  for  fear  of  vermin,  would  not  allow 
one  to  go  more  than  two  weeks  without  being  undone  and 
re-plaited.  Those  with  short  hair  had  to  be  braided  every 
week,  for  their  short  hairs  did  not  hold  well  together 
in  the  plaits;  and  soon  became  frowsy.  As  there  were 
many  who  had  long  hair,  and  but  few  who  were  skillful, 
those  few  would  have  to  attend  to  two  or  three  heads. 
It  happened  often,  when  the  Mistress  named  the  braiders, 
that  some  of  them  knew  nothing  about  doing  it  well. 
Then  there  was  vexation  on  both  sides ;  from  the  braider 
because  her  ignorance  was  exposed,  and  from  the 
braided  because  she  knew  her  hair  would  not  look  well. 
Generally  the  one  who  did  know  well,  and  who  did  not 


50  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

wish  her  hair  to  be  spoiled,  would  name  to  the  Mistress 
some  other  one  whom  she  wished  should  do  it  for  her, 
and  would  ask  that  they  be  paired.  Sometimes  the 
Mistress  was  willing;  but  sometimes  she  says,  "No;  this 
one,  if  she  does  not  know  how,  ought  to  know.  She  may 
practice  on  you."  So  she  would  stand  by  and  compel 
the  ignorant  one  to  try  to  do  it.  Then  this  one  who  does 
not  know  how  is  indeed  trying  her  best,  but  is  crying  with 
shame  at  her  own  mistakes;  and  the  one  who  is  being 
braided  is  crying  with  vexation  at  her  hair  being  spoiled. 
As  hair-braiding  is  hard  for  beginners,  even  a  straight 
parting  of  the  hair  is  difficult  to  be  made.  While  that 
parting  was  going  on,  the  owner  of  the  hair  is  conscious 
that  it  is  crooked,  and  begins  to  object.  Sometimes  she 
would  let  it  go  on  till  one  or  two  braids  are  done,  before 
she  looks  in  her  little  hand-mirror,  though  she  knows 
things  are  going  crookedly.  After  these  one  or  two  braids 
are  finished,  she  calls  for  the  glass,  "I  want  to  see  my 
asara."  Then,  as  soon  as  she  sees  in  the  glass  the  crooked 
chignon,  she  turns  and  says  "  I  won't  be  braided  by  you! 
You  have  to  undo  it  again!"  The  other  says,  "No;  I 
was  told  to  do  your  hair;  and  I  will  finish  it,  even  if  I  do 
not  know  how."  But  the  other,  "No!  I  won't!  I  won't 
have  my  hair  pulled  for  nothing,  and  no  asara  fit  to  be 
seen  come  of  it."  At  this,  the  braider  is  pleased  to  be 
relieved  of  a  work  she  is  not  competent  to  perform,  and 
goes  to  report  to  the  Mistress,  "Rekadie  (such-an-one)  is 
not  willing  I  shall  braid  her.  Her  hair  is  too  thick  and  too 
long  for  me  to  manage.  I  have  tried  my  best."  The 
other  one  also  comes  along,  "I  come  to  show  you  my 
asara.  I  will  not  go  to  church  with  them  to-morrow." 
Then  the  Mistress  will  be  reasonable,  and  will  excuse 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  Si 

the  ignorant  girl,  and  sends  her  to  practice  on  smaller 
heads  with  less  abundant  hair.  The  one  who  was  dis- 
satisfied has  now^  to  wait,  watching  for  a  chance  to  be 
done  up  by  some  one  else. 

This  happened  one  day  to  one  of  the  best  braiders. 
She  braided  for  her  friend  Celia,  who  herself  did  not 
know  how;  but  who  that  day  had  been  appointed  to  be 
paired  with  her.  So  she  did  not  get  vexed,  for  Celia 
was  her  friend.  She  sat  and  laughed  to  herself  as  she 
undid  her  chignon  while  she  was  waiting  for  Celia  to 
come  to  her.  The  latter  was  willing,  and  she  really  tried. 
She  tried  over  and  over,  half  a  braid  at  a  time ;  and  then 
would  undo  it.  After  she  had  started  a  braid,  the  other 
would  ask  her,  *'How  does  it  look?"  "I  think  it  will 
look  all  right."  And  she  goes  on  braiding.  Again  the 
other  asked,  "How  does  it  look?"  "Not  very  well; 
but  next  time  it  will  be  better."  So  Celia  went  on 
braiding  and  unbraiding,  unskillfully  pulling  at  the 
other's  hair  till  the  skin  of  her  scalp  became  sore  with 
the  pulling.  Then  the  other  said,  "That's  enough.  Let 
us  wait  till  another  day."  So,  instead  of  the  pair  vexing 
and  complaining  to  the  teacher,  they  had  a  good  laugh 
over  it;  and  the  other  had  to  hunt  up  another  braider. 
That  was  the  first  and  the  last  time  that  Celia  braided 
for  her  friend.  But  she  would  playfully  try  to  tease 
that  friend  long  afterward,  "I  think  I  am  able  to  braid 
you  now.  Let  me  do  it."  "No!  I  don't  want  to  be 
practiced  on."  Those  who,  like  this  girl  had  the  longest 
and  thickest  hair,  had,  most  of  the  time,  to  ask  permis- 
sion to  go  to  their  villages  to  be  done  up  by  their  own 
mothers.  Sometimes  the  Mistress  was  willing  we 
should  go.     Sometimes  she  refused,  "No  time  to  spare 


52  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

you  to  go  to  your  villages  to-day."  Then  we  had  to 
send  for  the  mother  or  cousin  to  come  and  braid  us  at 
Baraka  inside  the  yard.  For  this,  the  missionaries 
were  entirely  willing.  For  some  of  those  who  had  thick 
hair,  and  were  careful  to  keep  it  clean,  an  isara  would 
last  a  long  time.  Two  or  three  of  the  girls  could  make 
them  keep  and  look  well  for  three  weeks.  Some  could 
not  keep  their  hair  tidy,  even  after  it  was  braided;  and 
the  missionary  was  compelled  to  require  them  to  have 
their  hair  short. 

As  to  obeying  all  these  rules: — Sometimes  the  teacher 
or  the  Mistress  would  keep  a  record  and  list  of  names. 
Those  who  broke  rules  during  the  week  would  have 
"black  marks;"  those  who  obeyed,  a  "good"  or  straight 
mark.  Those  who  had  no  bad  marks  for  a  whole  week, 
were  sometimes  given  a  little  present.  Most  of  the  time 
the  girls  would  watch  the  two  slates  used  for  records 
that  stood  on  the  top  of  the  bureau  in  the  Mistress' 
room.  If  they  noticed  a  "black"  mark  against  their 
name,  and  for  which  they  could  not  account,  and  if  the 
girls  knew  those  marks  were  put  there  by  a  certain 
assistant,  and  not  by  the  Mistress,  they  would  go  and 
ask  the  Mistress,  "I  see  a  "black"  mark.  What  have 
I  done?"     If  the  Mistress  said,  "Not  by  me.     Ask  Miss 

;"  or,  if  she  would  say,  "The  teacher  told 

me  to  put  it,  but  she  did  not  tell  me  for  what;"  then 
the  girl  would  go  and  ask  that  teacher  about  it.  Some- 
times the  teacher  would  be  displeased,  and  say,  "How 
do  you  know  about  it?  Who  told  you  to  look  at  the 
slate  ? "  The  girl  replies,  * '  I  passed  by,  and  saw  my  name. 
If  you  can't  give  me  the  reason  why,  I  will  go  and  rub  it 
out.     But,  just  tell  the  reason.      I  want  to  know  what 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  53 

I  have  done."  If  no  reason  is  given,  the  girl  attempts 
to  carry  out  her  threat  of  erasing.  [There  was  one 
missionary  teacher  who  was  sadly  lacking  in  judgment 
and  tact.  She  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  spying  out 
small  faults,  to  which  the  Mistress  of  the  house  pre- 
ferred to  be  wisely  blind.  The  making  of  *' black" 
marks,  and  then  refusing  to  inform  for  what  offense  the 
mark  was  made,  drew  upon  this  unfortunate  lady  great 
disrespect,  and  a  painful  lack  of  confidence  in  her,  on 
the  part  of  the  school-girls.]  Then  this  teacher  would 
say,  "If  you  rub  it  out,  I  will  give  you  another.  Let  it 
alone."  But  the  girl  went  and  did  it.  When  the  teacher 
saw  that,  she  put  two  or  three  more  in  its  place  and  hid 
the  slate.  Once  this  happened  with  that  lady  and  one 
of  the  very  best  girls.  She  thought  she  had  been  very 
good,  clear  up  to  a  certain  day,  Friday.  When  she  saw 
her  name  on  the  slate,  there  were  two  "black"  marks 
against  it.  (She  was  always  proud  to  keep  her  name 
clear;  and  the  Mistress  always  trusted  her.)  She  went 
to  ask  the  Mistress,  who  told  her  that  the  mark  had  been 

ordered  by  Miss  .     So  she  went  straight  to  Miss 

,  and  asked  her,  "  I  want  to  know  about  the  "black 

marks."     Miss was  not  wilHng  to  tell  her.     And 

she  was  not  willing  to  leave  the  room  till  she  knew. 

Then  Miss explained,  "I  saw  you  standing  at  or 

near  the  front  porch,  or  the  gate ;  and  you  had  one  of  the 
buttons  on  the  back  of  your  dress  unbuttoned."  [The 
front  gate  was  fifty  feet  distant  from  the  front  porch  or 
veranda.]  The  girl  said,  "I  saw  our  missionary  father 
coming.  I  went  out  of  the  house  and  stood  on  the  porch 
to  meet  and  welcome  him.  That  is  not  forbidden  to  us. 
I  did  not  go  to  the  gate,  nor  even  leave  the  porch  to 


54  '  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

step  on  the  ground.  I  do  not  see  that  that  was  wrong. 
And,  was  my  open  button  indecency  or  untidiness?     I 

want  you  to  rub  out  those  two  marks."     Miss  

was  not  wilHng  to  do  so.  The  girl  said,  "You  are  not 
willing  to  rub  them  out,  and  yet  you  give  me  no  true 
reason  for  their  being  there.     I  call  those  marks,  marks 

s'  inoka  (of  untruth)."     Then  Miss  demanded, 

"What's  that?  Do  you  say  I  tell  a  lie?"  The  girl 
said,  "Yes!";  and  then  she  left  the  room.     Then  Miss 

broke  into  tears  and  went  to  tell  the  Mistress 

that  the  girl  had  said  she  lied.  The  Mistress  was  sur- 
prised that  her  good  monitress  had  used  such  language, 
and  called  her  and  asked  her  if  it  was  so.  She  acknowl- 
edged, "Yes;   I  have  asked  Miss again  and  again 

either  to  rub  those  marks  out,  or  to  explain  them;  and 
she  won't.  So  I  consider  them  untrue."  The  Mistress 
was  annoyed  that  this  had  happened  to  her  faithful 
monitress;    she  spoke  kindly  to  her,   and  said,   "Miss 

feels  hurt  very  much  that  you  accuse  her  of  lying. 

You  should  not  have  used  the  word  "lie."  You  might 
have  said  she  had  made  a  mistake."  The  girl  too  was 
feeling  hurt  for  the  spoiling  of  her  good  record,  and  she 
refused  to  change  the  word.  But  the  next  day,  Satur- 
day, when  the  slates  were  read  off,  there  were  no  "black '* 
marks  against  her  name. 

As  to  rewards  for  good  conduct:  A  small  merit  card 
was  given  at  the  end  of  each  perfect  week;  and  at  the 
end  of  a  perfect  month  these  four  cards  were  exchanged 
for  a  small  book.  Those  who  were  not  able  to  be  good 
for  an  entire  month  did  not  forfeit  what  they  had 
already,  but  could  keep  their  cards  till  they  accumu- 
lated by  the  next  month  or  months  to  four,  and  then 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  55 

they  were  exchanged  for  a  reward.  Some  would  go  a 
month  or  two  without  even  one  entire  week's  good  card; 
for  some  got  as  many  as  three  "black"  marks  in  one 
day.  For  being  impertinent  or  otherwise  "ugly"  to  a 
missionary,  or  for  fighting  with  other  girls,  that  week 
got  no  card.  Such  offenders  would  try  to  put  on  a  bold 
face  and  say,  "Z'  isala!  (no  matter!)  Who  cares?"  But, 
really,  they  did  care. 

When  we  had  succeeded  in  going  half  of  the  week 
with  no  mark,  then  we  would  hope  and  try  harder. 
And  the  Mistress  would  encourage  us.  "See,  this  is 
Wednesday,  and  you  have  no  mark!  Try  your  best  the 
rest  of  this  week! "  Then  those  girls  who  had  been 
good  wotdd  ask  the  Mistress  to  take  them  a  Saturday 
walk.  But,  if  some  had  been  doing  badly,  she  would 
say  to  them,  "You,  and  you,  such  an  one,  you  cannot 
go  out  walking  with  the  rest."  That  would  be  nkaza 
(pain)  to  be  left  behind.  The  rest  of  us  would  go  off 
happy  and  glad.  And  we  would  come  back  from  our 
romp  on  the  beach,  bringing  with  us  long  vines  that 
grew  on  the  top  of  the  beach,  which  we  used  for  skip- 
ping-ropes. As  soon  as  we  returned,  we  would  come, 
jumping  ropes  and  skipping  into  the  yard,  glad  that 
we  had  had  no  "black"  marks. 


56  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

Tale,   No.   6. 
School  Promenades. 

IN  our  school-days,  the  teacher  had  the  ntyale  (habit) 
of  taking  the  children  out  to  walk  once  or  twice  a 
week;  that  is,  if  everything  had  gone  on  well,  and 
work  was  all  finished.  If  not,  then  we  were  told,  "You 
sha'n't  go  out  this  week;  work  was  not  well  done,  and 
some  girls  have  been  naughty."  So,  whenever  a  walk 
was  promised  a  day  or  two  in  advance,  all  the  girls 
would  try  to  do  their  very  best  so  as  not  to  prevent  it. 
We  would  try  to  do  our  work  as  quickly  as  we  could  in 
the  morning  of  the  promised  day,  so  as  to  gain  time  to 
lengthen  the  walk  in  the  afternoon.  For,  we  enjoyed 
those  walks  very  much. 

Starting  out  from  the  front  gate  of  the  school  premises. 
Teacher  would  ask  us,  "Which  way  do  you  wish  to  go? 
To  the  right?  or  to  the  left?"  Then  we  would  choose. 
As  we  were  many,  the  homes  of  some  of  the  girls  were 
toward  the  right  side;  of  others,  toward  the  left.  Every 
one  chose  the  part  toward  which  their  mothers  lived, 
so  that  they  could  go  and  see  them;  and  finally  the 
majority  decided  the  route  to  be  taken.  So,  when  pass- 
ing along,  as  we  approached  any  village,  the  child  whose 
relatives  lived  in  that  vicinity,  would  say,  "Ma!  let  me 
run  ahead  to  salute  my  mother,  and  join  you  afterwards." 
And  she  would  let  us  go.  Thus  some  one  in  succession 
would  be  running  ahead  to  their  own  village,  so  that 
they  might  have  a  few  minutes  longer  with  their  friends. 
Those  who  had  not  their  own  homes  near,  would  ask  to 
go  along  with  their  special  girl  friend  who  was  going  to 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  57 

see  her's.     Others,  who  had  no  homes,  would  just  stay 
on  the  beach  playing,  while  waiting  for  the  rest. 

When  our  mistress  had  gone  as  far  as  she  intended  to 
go,  she  would  begin  to  turn  back  with  the  few  girls  who, 
either  having  no  homes,  or  not  caring  for  the  beach  play, 
had  chosen  to  remain  with  her.  And  they  will  go  up 
from  the  beach  through  the  villages,  retracing  their  route, 
stopping  from  place  to  place,  and  picking  up  the  strag- 
glers. To  those  whose  homes  were  off  the  direct  route, 
the  teacher  would  send  messengers  ahead  or  to  the  right 
or  left,  to  call  them. 

Always  the  first  thing  with  us,  on  arrival  in  our  village, 
was  to  pick  cayenne-pepper  pods  from  the  bushes  grow- 
ing in  our  villages,  as  all  the  school-children  were  very 
fond  of  pepper.  [It  is  an  essential  in  assisting  digestion 
of  the  starch  of  the  native  cassava-bread.]  The  bushes 
growing  on  the  Baraka  school  premises  did  not  suffice, 
and  were  constantly  stripped.  This  was  usually  the 
first  request:  "Ma!  let  us  run  ahead  to  gain  time  to 
pick  pepper;  we  have  none  at  Baraka;  and  our  villages 
have."  The  Teacher  would  say,  "Yes!  but  don't  destroy 
their  bushes."  For,  we  had  the  evil  habit,  in  our  haste, 
of  not  carefully  and  slowly  picking  off  the  little  pods,  but 
would  greedily  break  off  branches;  thus  destroying  the 
bush.  So,  if  once  the  girls  got  to  work  at  a  pepper-bush, 
it  was  hard  to  get  them  away  again.  The  cry  would 
come  from  the  Mistress,  "Girls!  yogoni"  (come  ye). 
But  that  general  call  would  be  disregarded.  Then 
came,  by  name,  "You,  such-an-one!  yogo!  (Come  thou!)  " 
Even  then,  it  was  slow  leaving.  The  Teacher  would 
have  to  call  two  or  three  times,  "Girls!  it's  getting  late." 
"Yes,    Ma!    we're   coming!",   the   while   they  were   still 


58  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

standing  busily  picking.  As  soon  as  they  had  heard 
the  call,  every  one  began  to  pick  more  rapidly  than 
before;  and,  instead  of  plucking  pod  by  pod,  at  last 
they  began  to  snatch  off  small  ends  of  branches,  so  as  to 
get  a  dozen  pods  at  a  time,  which  was  faster  than  taking 
one  by  one.  Of  this,  the  village  owner  of  the  bush  would 
sometimes  take  notice.  Anxious  for  her  bush,  but 
ashamed  to  rebuke  the  child,  the  woman  would  say, 
"Children!  you  are  called!"  thus  escaping  from  seeming 
to  forbid  the  plucking  of  the  pepper.  We  would  reply, 
"Yes,  we've  heard."  As  we  still  delayed,  her  anxiety 
for  her  bush  would  outgrow  her  tenderness  for  us.  "But, 
why  don't  you  then  go?  Better  go  now;  you  have 
picked  quite  enough."  "Yes,  please;  we  want  to  pick  a 
few  more;  we  have  not  quite  enough."  Her  patience 
presently  would  give  out;  " But  don't  break  the  bushes." 
Then  we  would  pick  still  faster,  make  one  final  grab  at 
an  entire  branch,  break  it  off,  run  as  fast  as  we  could,  and 
go  to  join  the  others,  happy,  over  our  pepper  and  other 
presents.  These  latter  would  always  be  either  a  little 
salt  (as  we  were  not  allowed  to  go  to  the  salt- jar  in  the 
mission  pantry  between  meals),  beads,  a  sleeping-cloth, 
a  roll  of  Oguma  (cassava-bread) ,  a  few  fingers  of  plantains, 
or  fish.  Then  we  all  came  back  to  the  school-yard 
laughing,  happy,  carrying  the  little  presents  of  food 
given  us  by  our  parents  or  sisters,  and  saying,  "Nka- 
ngana  (ramble)  good! "  But,  when  the  start  out  was  a 
little  late,  and  there  was  time  only  for  walking  on  the 
beach,  and  no  time  to  visit  our  mothers  or  to  pick  from 
the  pepper-bushes,  the  murmur  was,  "The  nkangana 
was  not  good.  I  did  not  like  it;  had  no  time  to  run 
over  to  my  village."     And   some   would   say,    "Nyawe 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  59 

'du  (not  at  all)  what's  the  use;  I  wish  I  had  stayed  in 
the  yard,  and  not  have  gone  at  all."  A  few  would  say, 
"E!  mangi  sina!  (Eh!  this  people!)  It  was  all  right:  I 
enjoyed  myself  running  and  chasing  on  the  beach  and 
playing  in  the  sand."  Then  some  would  reply,  "Yes! 
that  will  do  for  you.  You  say  so  because  you  were  not 
near  your  own  village.  Would  you  have  liked  it  if  your 
home  had  been  near,  and  you  were  given  no  time  to  run 
to  it,  and  get  something?" 

But  sometimes  we  got  into  trouble  with  the  town 
girls  in  passing  through  their  streets;  and  would  fall 
into  a  quarrel  with  them.  Sometimes  we  were  in  the 
right;  sometimes  we  were  in  the  wrong,  we  beginning 
the  quarrel,  which  occasionally  ended  in  a  fight  on  the 
spot,  or  a  promise  of  one.  That  promise  would  be,  "  Come 
to-morrow  afternoon,  at  such  and  such  an  hour  and  such 
a  place  out  on  the  prairie,  while  the  missionaries  are  eat- 
ing." As  most  of  the  town  girls  knew  nothing  about 
hours,  they  would  come  either  too  late  or  too  early;  at 
an  hour  when  the  missionaries  were  not  eating.  Then 
one  or  two  of  the  younger  girls  would  be  sent  out  on  the 
sly  to  meet  the  coming  town-girls,  and  tell  them,  "We 
have  no  chance  to  meet  you  just  now,  lest  we  be  caught 
and  punished.  Come  again  to-morrow  at  the  appointed 
hour."  Then  if  that  next  day  they  came  on  time,  those 
school  girls  who  were  engaged  for  the  fight,  would  go 
out  and  meet  the  town-girls ;  and  would  leave  one  or  two 
younger  ones  to  watch  when  the  missionaries  rose  from 
their  table,  and  they  were  then  to  run  out  and  call  the 
fighters  back.  These  younger  ones  would  come  saying, 
"Girls!  Come!  quick!  the  white  people  have  finished  eat- 
ing! "     Then,  if  the  fight  was  not  done,  the  girls  would 


60  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

say  to  those  of  the  towns,  "  Our  fight  is  not  ended!  Come 
another  day  and  finish  it."  If  the  town  children  saw 
they  were  equal  in  strength  they  were  willing  to  arrange 
to  come  back  again.  But,  if  they  saw  that  their  party  was 
weak  and  not  able  to  conquer,  they  would  refuse  to  come, 
and  the  quarrel  might  be  called  settled.  But  not  always. 
Sometimes,  when  the  fight  had  thus  been  interrupted, 
and  the  school  girls  would  say,  "Wait  for  another  day." 
The  town  children  would  reply,  "O!  you're  afraid!" 
They  would  not  dare  say  that  on  the  spot,  or  at  the 
moment,  but  after  themselves  had  started  to  go,  and 
had  what  they  thought  a  safe  distance  between  them- 
selves and  the  school  girls.  As  soon  as  the  school  chil- 
dren would  hear  this  they  were  enraged;  to  be  called 
cowards  was  too  much.  ''What  will  happen  must  hap- 
pen! Come  back  now,  then.  Let  us  have  it! "  Then 
the  school  children  would  run  after  the  town's-people 
cheering  and  shouting  and  fighting  as  they  went  along. 
This  noise  would  be  so  loud,  that  the  missionary  would 
hear  it;  she  would  be  sure  to  guess  that  the  children 
were  out  fighting;  and  she  would  send  some  one  to  get 
them  back,  or  go  down  the  path  herself  with  a  whip. 
The  town  children  would  be  afraid  of  that  whip,  and 
would  flee.  The  punishment  for  the  school  would  be, 
"This  trouble  began  at  the  last  promenade.  You  will 
not  promenade  again  for  two  weeks."  This  would  be 
sore  punishment  for  the  school  girls.  They  would  rather 
be  punished  in  almost  any  other  way.  Those  who  were 
not  mixed  in  either  the  fight  or  its  cause,  would  murmur, 
"We  did  not  join  in  the  fight,  but  we  are  made  to  share 
in  the  punishment."  The  teacher  would  only  reply, 
"If  one  of  you  has  done  wrong,  the  others  of  you  will 
have  to  suffer  too." 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  61 

Tale,   No.   7. 
Vacations. 

MOST  of  the  missionary  ladies  and  gentlemen  had 
the  habit  of  choosing  some  one  boy  or  girl,  as 
their  special  favorite,  sometimes  giving  them 
their  own  name.  Or,  sometimes,  people  in  the  United 
States,  a  woman  or  a  man,  would  send  word  to  the  Mis- 
sion to  choose  a  boy  or  girl  and  give  them  their  name, 
and  they  would  send  them  occasional  presents  besides 
the  yearly  money  spent  [at  that  time]  by  the  Mission 
for  their  support. 

Many  of  the  school  children  had  English  names  given 
in  this  way,  or  perhaps  by  their  own  parents,  or  even  by 
the  missionaries  themselves,  if  they  thought  the  native 
name,  e.  g.  "Anyentyuwe"  (which  was  used  by  several 
girls)  was  difficult  to  pronounce.  The  presents  sent  to 
these  namesakes  were  of  various  things,  e.  g.  books, 
dresses,  aprons  and  other  articles  of  clothing.  Sometimes 
the  ladies  of  some  church  in  the  United  States  would  send 
a  whole  box  full  of  dresses  for  the  entire  school,  to  help 
save  the  time  and  strength  of  the  Mission  Teacher  in  our 
sewing  school.  These  were  usually  given  to  us  as  rewards, 
or  distributed  after  the  close  of  an  examination  and  just 
before  vacations. 

Originally  we  had  vacations  every  quarter  of  a  year. 
Then  we  were  allowed  to  go  to  our  villages,  and  stay  one 
week  with  our  parents  or  other  relatives.  Afterwards, 
this  was  changed  to  having  vacation  only  twice  a  year, 
and  the  school  then  had  a  rest  from  lessons  for  two  weeks. 
The  rule  was  that  all  of  the  smaller  girls  (Classes  Nos.  5, 


62  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

4,  and  3)  went  to  their  villages  and  stayed  the  entire  two 
weeks.  But  the  largest  girls  (Class  No.  1)  had  to  remain 
at  the  Mission-house  even  during  vacation;  being 
allowed,  however,  to  go  on  occasional  walks  to  their  vil- 
lages and  return  the  same  day.  The  next  largest  class 
(No.  2)  was  usually  divided  into  two  sections,  the  one 
half  to  spend  half  of  the  two  weeks'  vacation  in  their 
village,  and  then  come  back  to  take  the  place  of  the  other 
half  who  had  remained  at  Baraka.  There  were  two 
reasons  given  for  this  practice:  One  was,  that,  as  the 
missionaries  employed  no  personal  servants  (except  a 
cook),  we  girls  were  required  to  do  all  their  household 
service  without  pay.  The  works  of  the  Mission-house- 
hold were  many,  and  not  all  the  young  workers  could  be 
spared  to  go  on  their  vacation  at  the  same  time.  Another 
reason  was,  lest,  by  long  stay  in  their  villages,  the  children 
should  get  mixed  up  in  heathen  customs. 

This  was  felt  by  the  girls  to  be  hard;  especially  so  by 
that  Class  No.  2.  When  the  time  came  for  the  Mistress 
to  say  to  the  first  section,  "Now,  your  week  is  finished; 
return  from  your  vacation,"  there  was  murmuring.  For, 
they  knew  that  next  year  they  would  be  pronounced  too 
big  to  go  at  all,  and  would  be  classed  among  the  largest 
girls;  and  they  would  begin  to  cry  and  say,  "I  am  not 
yet  become  old.  I  want  to  visit  my  village.  I  know 
I  am  hindered,  just  to  do  this  house-work." 

This  missionary  practice  was  not  a  good  one;  for,  we 
girls  felt  it  was  not  just  for  us  to  be  compelled  to  do  all 
that  work  without  pay.  We  would  not  have  objected 
to  doing  even  many  little  services  as  affectionate  children. 
But,  all  the  washing,  ironing,  sweeping,  scrubbing,  water- 
carrying,   bed-making,    house-cleaning   often   taxed   our 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  63 

Strength  severely.  So,  on  escaping  from  these  tasks, 
we  children  used  to  enjoy  vacation  very  much.  We  would 
count  ahead,  weeks  and  days,  as  the  vacation  approached. 
When  there  remained  only  about  two  weeks  in  advance, 
the  Mistress  would  say,  "Such  and  such  a  work  is  to  be 
finished  before  vacation."  There  was  the  making  of 
new  dresses,  so  that  the  girls  should  have  something  clean 
to  wear  at  once  on  their  return.  These  were  left  lying 
at  the  Mission-house  to  await  our  return.  There  was 
patching  of  old  dresses,  and  mending,  and  making  sleep- 
ing-cloths to  be  taken  with  the  girls  to  their  villages. 
Also,  they  took  with  them  each  two  nice  dresses  to  be 
worn  on  Sabbath;  as  those  who  lived  near  were  ex- 
pected to  come  back  to  church. 

The  youngest  little  girls  were  always  started  to  their 
homes  on  the  Saturday  preceding  the  vacation.  The 
next  set  (Class  No.  3)  would  go  out  on  the  following  Mon- 
day. Then  the  first  half  of  Class  No.  2  would  follow  on 
Tuesday;  they  having  helped  on  Monday  in  the  cleaning 
up  and  leaving  in  order  the  dormitory  just  vacated  by  the 
little  ones.  As  each  day  the  out-going  ones  of  that  day 
were  summoned  by  the  Teacher,  there  were  shoutings 
of  joy,  "Yo!  yo!  mbyambiyeni!  (Good!  good!  good- 
bye all!)  "  Occasionally,  a  few  of  even  the  youngest  ones 
had  to  stay,  either  for  the  reason  that  their  homes  were 
too  far  away;  or,  as  actually  was  at  times  the  case, 
their  own  relatives  were  so  shiftless  as  to  be  unfit  to 
take  proper  care  of  them.  These  and  others  who  had  to 
remain  would  begin  to  weep,  "  Ndo  m'  bela  kenda!  (But 
I  want  to  go!)  "  For,  they  knew  that  those  who  went 
to  their  villages  would  be  enjoying  themselves  very 
much. 


64  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

Those  whose  fathers  were  prominent  men,  e.  g.^Tom 
Case,  and  Oneme^  and  Sonie  Harrington^  and  Governor, 

Swho  had  money  and  slaves  with  which  to  make  a  big 
plantation  miles  away  from  their  town  houses  that  were 
j  adjacent  to  the  Mission,  would  arrange  to  take  all  their 
,     I  children  at  vacation  time  off  to  their  camps  in  the  forest. 
Ky.    :  Sometimes  the  Mistress  would  allow  even  the  big  girls 
^  (Class  No.  1)  to  go  too,  if  they  promised  to  go  only  to  the 

.ft  /        j  plantation-camp,  and  not  to  their  town  houses  in  the 
^/  ^     f  villages  near  the   foreign  Trading-houses.     Then  these 
o  girls  would  plead  with  their  fathers  to  make  the  occasion 

i,"^  for  the  clearing  of  a  new  camp  to  coincide  with  the  time 

0  i  of  vacation.     If  their  fathers,  who  were  head-trademen, 

(sub-agents)  for  the  white  men  at  the  so-called  "Fac- 
tories" (Trading-houses)  could  get  away  from  their 
trade  just  at  that  time,  they  would  do  so.  As  soon  as 
these  children  reached  the  plantation  [where  there  was 
a  collection  of  small  huts,  mostly  occupied  by  the  slaves 
who  guarded  the  plantation]  their  mothers  would  ask 
them  to  take  off  their  dresses  and  put  on  the  single  native 
cloth.  This  for  two  reasons:  to  keep  their  dresses  from 
being  torn  by  thorns ;  and  because  our  parents  said  our 
bodies  would  not  grow  well  if  the  winds  were  not  allowed 
to  blow  on  our  skin.  [Which  is  true.]  The  smaller 
children  liked  to  put  off  the  dress;  but  the  larger  ones 
did  not ;  for,  they  felt  it  somewhat  of  an  indecency,  having 
become  accustomed  to  covering  their  bodies;  [and  also 
because  the  old  women  would  critically  examine  their 
bodies  and  make  remarks  about  their  development  with 
reference  to  marriage.]  Nevertheless,  their  dresses  were 
laid  aside;  their  skin  carefully  looked  over  lest  there  be 
any  eruptions;   they  were  thoroughly  washed  every  day, 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  65 

and  given  plenty  to  eat,  so  that  they  might  grow  fat. 
For,  there  in  the  plantation  they  had  a  greater  abundance 
and  variety  of  food  than  even  in  their  own  villages ;  such 
as,  besides  the  usual  plantains  and  oguma  (cassava), 
akabo  (eddoes) ;  several  varieties  of  yam,  the  inkwa 
(a  pink  yam) ,  imanga  (a  white  yam) ,  ngwa  (a  small  hard 
yam),  imbongwe  (a  yellow,  sHghtly  bitter  yam),  araga 
(a  yam  resembling  Irish  potato),  white  sweet  potatoes, 
fresh  fish,  mutton  of  goat,  wild  meat,  njagani  (chicken), 
fish  with  gravy  of  odika  (wild-mangoe  kernels),  or  palm 
oil,  or  mpaga  (a  rich  oily  nut),  and  nganda  (gourd-seed 
pudding).  These  made  rich  gravies  or  sauces;  and 
cooked  with  any  meat  in  plantain  leaves  were  called 
agewu  (bundles).  When  it  was  the  proper  time  for 
making  a  clearing  in  the  forest  for  a  new  garden,  every 
day  the  parents  with  their  slaves  and  us  children  all 
would  leave  this  plantation  mpindi  (hamlet),  and  go  off 
still  farther  into  the  forest  where  the  new  plantation 
clearing  was  to  be  made,  and  near  which  already  two  or 
three  temporary  bamboo  sheds  had  been  erected.  We 
would  leave  the  plantation  very  early  in  the  morning  to 
go  to  the  work  of  clearing  for  the  new  ntyaga  (garden) . 
We  small  children  would  help  our  mothers  to  carry  small 
loads,  perhaps  of  a  basket  of  food,  or  a  little  jug  of  water, 
or  a  bundle  of  clean  clothes;  as  the  women  always  put 
on,  for  that  work  among  the  bushes,  one  old  cloth  and 
two  handkerchiefs,  one  to  tie  around  their  head  and  the 
other  with  which  to  gird  themselves,  ready  for  the  work 
of  cutting  bushes  and  vines  and  saplings,  each  with  one 
or  two  cutlasses  (machetes) .  The  first  thing,  on  arriving 
at  the  shed  of  the  new.  small_mp_indi,  was  to  gather  fire- 
wood, make  a  fire,  and  fix  the  children  something  to  eat 


66  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

for  breakfast.  There  the  mothers  intended  to  leave  the 
smaller  children,  bidding  them  to  take  care  of  the  sheds 
and  not  stray  away  from  them.  But,  the  little  ones, 
seeing  the  older  ones  going,  would  say,  "But  we  want  to 
go  along  with  you  and  help  you  in  the  cutting  of  the 
bushes."  The  mothers  would  say,  "No;  you  don't 
know  how  to  do  it;  and  you  will  be  in  our  way."  Still 
the  children  would  plead,  "No;  but  we  want  to  come!" 
Then  the  mothers  consent,  "Well,  come  along." 

But,  as  soon  as  these  little  ones  get  to  the  place  where 
the  work  is  begun,  they  see  it  is  not  so  fine  and  easy  as 
they  had  thought.  As  they  are  really  unable  to  assist, 
and  there  is  nothing  to  play  with,  they  soon  become 
dissatisfied.  And,  as  their  mothers  disappear  behind 
the  piles  of  brush  and  bushes  in  the  forest,  they  begin  to 
feel  lonely  and  cry  out,  "Mother,  where  are  you?  I  want 
to  come  to  you!"  "Well,  come  on!"  "But  where  are 
you?  I  can't  see  a  path  or  find  a  place."  The  mother 
replies,  "Mie  wina"  (this  is  I).  Then  the  child,  seeing 
no  one,  but  trying  to  follow  the  voice,  soon  becomes 
entangled  with  her  clothes  in  the  thorns,  and  being 
alarmed,  cries  out,  "But  where  are  you,  Mother?"  The 
voice  repeats,  "Mie  wina;  come  on!"  Soon  the  little 
legs  are  tripped  among  vines,  and  down  the  child  falls, 
and  begins  to  whimper,  "The  thorns!  and  the  vines;  and 
your  voice  is  far!"  Then  the  mothers  say:  "If  you  are 
not  able  to  come,  then  turn  back  all  of  you  before  you 
lose  the  path,  or  get  lost  in  the  bushes.  Are  you  able  to 
find  the  way  back  to  the  mpindi  sheds?"  If  so,  they 
turned  back.  If  not,  and  one  begins  to  cry,  "I've  lost 
my  way!  I  can't  see  to  go  back! "  some  one  of  the  women 
has  to  leave  her  work  and  go  back  with  them,  which  is  a 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  67 

vexation  to  her  in  losing  her  worktime.  So  she  takes 
them  back  to  the  little  mpindi,  and  prepares  their  dinner, 
and  says,  "Now  this  is  your  dinner.  When  you  all  get 
hungry,  here  it  is.  And  don't  come  to  the  forest  to 
trouble  us  again.  We  don't  want  you  there."  The 
children  accept  the  rebuke,  but  ask,  "When  are  all  our 
mothers  coming?"  "Not  till  evening,  after  sun-set." 
"But  when  will  they  have  their  food?  Will  they  not  be 
hungry?"  "We  have  not  time  there  for  cooking  or  any 
thing  else;  only  work.  We  have  taken  a  little  lunch 
with  us;  and  we  will  eat  when  we  return  to-night." 
Then  the  woman  leaves  us,  and  goes  back  to  the  work 
with  her  machete  again.  We  children  were  not  afraid 
to  be  alone,  for  there  were  the  sheds,  and  not  the  wild 
forest;  and  there  was  an  open  space  between  the  sheds 
in  which  to  play.  We  dug  sweet  potatoes,  which  already 
had  started  to  grow  there,  and  cooked  them  in  the  hot 
ashes,  and  we  ate  our  fill.  Before  sun-set  came,  some 
slave  was  sent  by  our  mothers  in  advance  to  be  with  us, 
to  start  fires,  and  to  begin  to  get  their  food  ready.  By 
seven  P.  M.  it  would  be  dark;  and  we,  tired  with  play, 
were  glad  to  see  our  mothers  coming,  their  path  lighted 
by  a  torch  or  a  fire-brand. 

This  way  of  doing  would  go  on  for  two  or  three  days; 
and  was  a  nice  plan,  if  there  were  those  mpindi  sheds 
in  which  to  sleep.  If  not,  then  the  day's  walk,  after 
the  day's  work,  was  a  long  one,  back  to  the  big  planta- 
tion. The  women  could  not  do  that  every  day;  they 
would  have  to  rest  a  day  or  so  at  the  big  plantation, 
doing  some  light  work.  Sometimes,  when  they  had 
eaten  all  their  supply  of  food  they  had  taken  with  them 
to  that  forest-clearing,  they  would  all  go  back  with  us 


68  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

to  the  plantation,  to  prepare  a  new  lot  of  food  for  some 
more  days  again  at  the  new  plantation.  As  that  forest 
work  is  hard,  and  makes  the  body  sore  all  over,  the  wo- 
men would  take  a  hot  bath  each  night  to  prepare  for  the 
next  day,  and  put  oil  on  all  scratches  or  wherever  thorns 
had  torn  their  skin. 

After  the  women  had  finished  cutting  the  underbrush 
of  the  ntyaga,  then  came  the  best  time  of  all,  when  the 
men  would  follow  to  chop  down  the  trees.  That  was  the 
time  for  rich  food,  and  plenty  of  eating;  no  small  lunches. 
But,  if  the  men  were  not  ready,  we  had  to  go  back  and 
wait  at  the  big  plantation.  And  we  would  miss  the  ex- 
citement of  the  tree-felling  and  the  rich  eating;  for,  by 
that  time  the  vacation  would  be  up.  Then  some  chil- 
dren would  plead  with  their  mothers  to  be  allowed  to 
stay  overtime.  Sometimes  it  was  impossible;  and  we 
had  to  go  back  to  school.  But  sometimes,  when  the 
fathers  themselves  were  there  to  superintend  the  fell- 
ing, and  were  not  able  to  leave  in  order  to  escort  the 
children  back  to  school,  the  parents  notified  the  mission- 
aries that  the  children  had  to  stay  longer.  Finally,  our 
fathers  themselves  would  take  us  back,  when  their  work 
was  done,  carrying  with  us  food,  and  new  clothes,  and 
we  looking  healthy  and  well.  And  they  would  tell  us 
to  be  good,  saying,  "You  have  had  a  long  vacation. 
Don't  ask  to  be  going  to  the  villages."  All  of  us  came 
back  with  the  happy  thought  of  our  vacation. 

Those  who  had  remained  at  the  Mission-house  had 
been  working;  scrubbing  and  house-cleaning,  as  that 
was  the  best  time  for  house-work,  there  being  but  few 
children  to  take  care  of,  and  no  little  ones  in  their  way. 

But  those  workers  also  had  some  sort  of  a  good  time; 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  69 

for,  the  Mistress  would  be  unusually  kind  to  them  at  that 
season.  She  would  please  them  by  long  walks,  taking 
them  at  times  even  near  to  their  plantations.  She 
would  take  them  for  baths  in  the  sea,  or  to  the  brooks 
in  the  forest.  Also  for  them,  in  vacation,  the  rules  were 
not  strictly  carried  out;  if  they  happened  to  break  any, 
it  was  over-looked  and  no  marks  made.  So  all  came 
together  happy  and  pleasant  at  the  end  of  our  vacation. 
And  books  would  begin  again. 


iM^c.cao     \  rcAa^nq    v-rt^  ^a-^m: 


70  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 


Tale,   No.   8. 
The    Seven    Re-captives. 

SOME  years  before  any  of  the  native  women  who  have 
given  me  their  reminiscences  in  these  Tales  were 
born,  there  had  been  brought  to  the  Mission  seven 
children,  five  boys  and  two  girls,  little  waifs,  rescued  from 
foreign  slavery  by  a  certain  American  sea  captain  named 
Lawlin.  He  had  a  trading-house  for  ivory,  dye-woods  and 
~~oth"er  natural  products  of  the  country  at  Nkami  (miscalled 
*'Camma")  about  one  hundred  miles  south  of  Gaboon 
river.  He  frequently  made  visits  in  his  sailing  vessel 
to  Libreville;  and,  being  friendly  to  Missions,  he  visited 
at  the  Baraka  house. 

Slaves  were  at  that  time  (between  1845  and  '55)  still 
being  exported  from  the  Coast,  less  than  one  hundred 
miles  south  of  the  Gaboon  river,  from  the  Delta  of  the 
Ogowe  river.  British  cruisers  had  made  the  slave-trade 
unsafe  for  large  vessels  such  as  could  cross  the  Atlantic 
to  Cuba  and  Brazil.  But  small  sloops,  open  boats  that 
could  easily  hide  among  the  mangrove  swamps  at  the 
many  mouths  of  the  Ogowe  river,  safely  ran  in  and  out 
at  night,  and  carried  on  a  successful  slave-trade  with 
the  adjacent  Portuguese  islands,  St.  Thomas  and  Prince's 
some  two  hundred  miles  west  of  the  Gaboon  Coast. 

At  his  **Camma"  house,  Capt.  Lawlin  "contrived  to 
redeem  five  bright  little  boys  from  slavery,  by  paying 
money  to  their  owners;  and  soon  afterwards  they  were 
placed  under  the  care  of  the  Mission."  For,  he  brought 
them  to  Libreville,  landed  them  at  the  Mission,  and  gave 
them  to  the  Rev.  WiUiam  Walker,  the  missionary  then 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  71 

in  charge;  who,  of  course,  declared  them  free  (except 
in  case  of  one  of  those  boys) .  Mr.  Walker  had  previously 
seen,  among  the  domestic  slaves  of  a  native  friend,  a 
wealthy  Mpongwe  trader,  by  name  Sonie  Harrington, 
an  active,  bright-faced,  intelligent-looking  little  lad 
whom  he  offered  to  ransom  from  his  master,  hoping  that 
he  could  be  made  a  useful  pupil  in  the  Mission  school. 
But  Sonie  refused ;  he  himself  liked  the  lad's  intelligence, 
and  he  preferred  the  living  being  to  the  offered  money. 

When  these  five  boys  came  to  Mr.  Walker's  hand,  he 
renewed  his  request  to  Sonie,  and  offered  to  exchange 
one  of  them  for  the  desired  lad.  Sonie  yielded.  The 
little  boy  passed  into  the  company  of  his  other  slaves. 
There  is  no  record  of  what  ever  became  of  him.  But,  as 
Sonie  was  a  kind  master,  certain  it  is  that  the  boy's  life 
was  a  happier  and  freer  one  at  Libreville,  under  the  mild 
form  of  Mpongwe  domestic  slavery  than  on  the  coffee 
plantations  of  St.  Thomas  island.  The  substituted  lad 
at  once  became  a  freeman,  a  pupil  in  the  Baraka  school, 
passed  year  after  year  up  through  its  course  of  education, 
entered  the  church,  is  a  consistent  Christian,  and  a  useful 
evangelist  in  the  church  services. 

His  life  has  been  an  uneventful  one,  except  for  its  one 
bit  of  romance.  In  entering  into  his  freedom  he  assumed 
that  he  had  a  right  to  all  Mpongwe  privileges.  As  a 
young  man  at  school,  he  fell  in  love  with  one  of  the  school 
girls,  a  daughter  of  his  late  master,  and  desired  to  marry 
her.  That  was  utterly  impossible.  A  tribal  custom, 
strict  as  that  of  Mede  and  Persian,  forbids  a  Mpongwe 
woman  to  marry  any  man  of  an  inferior  tribe,  however 
worthy  he  may  personally  be.  The  freedom  bought  by 
the  missionary  was  not  accepted  by  the  Gaboon  natives 


72  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

as  equal  to  free  birth.  The  young  man,  at  the  refusal, 
shrank  back  into  himself,  became  secretive,  lost  much 
of  his  energy  and  zeal  to  work,  has  kept  much  to  himself, 
and  has  persistently  refused  to  seek  marriage.  A 
remarkable  position  for  a  native  African  negro  to  main- 
tain. Every  native  man  and  woman  expects  to  marry; 
and  will  and  does  marry,  in  some  way,  legal  or  illegal, 
somebody  or  anybody.  This  man,  now  beginning  to  be 
gray-haired,  is  the  only  exception  of  whom  I  know. 

On  one  of  his  voyages.  Captain  Lawlin  came  across 
one  of  those  small  slave  boats  out  at  sea.  It  had  met 
with  a  storm,  had  lost  its  way;  and  slavers  and  slaves 
were  suffering  hunger  and  thirst.  He  had  no  desire  to 
aid  the  Portuguese  slave-traders;  but,  as  a  humane  man, 
he  pitied  the  dying  slaves,  and  sold  the  slavers  food  and 
water,  demanding  in  exchange  certain  of  their  human 
cargo.  He  chose  two  little  girls.  Of  all  these  seven 
re-captives,  their  character  and  their  lives,  I  write  from 
my  personal  observation  and  acquaintance.  But  of 
their  origin  I  derive  my  information  from  a  little  book 
C  Gaboon  Stories,"  American  Tract  Society)  written 
many  years  ago,  by  the  late  Mrs.  Jane  S.  Preston,  who 
was  a  missionary  in  the  Baraka  house,  at  the  time  the 
children  arrived.  Her  own  statement  is:  *' There  were 
also  two  little  girls  in  the  Mission  who  had  been  rescued 
from  slavery.  Why  they  were  first  sold,  I  do  not  know; 
but  they  had  been  bought  by  Portuguese  of  the  island 
of  St.  Thomas.  They  with  other  slaves,  were  being 
taken  from  near  Cape  Lopez,  in  an  open  boat,  across 
to  the  island;  but,  in  a  storm  their  masters  had  been 
driven  out  of  their  course,  and  not  having  any  compass, 
had  lost  their  way,  and  did  not  know  the  direction  of 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  73 

their  island  home.  After  many  days  saihng  here  and 
there  in  vain,  their  food  and  water  were  all  gone.  Just 
then  the  American  captain  fell  in  with  them  as  he  was 
going  south  along  the  coast,  but  out  of  sight  of  land. 
He  gave  them  food  and  water,  and  told  them  which  way 
to  steer  to  find  St.  Thomas.  Then,  as  he  looked  down 
from  his  vessel  into  their  little  boat,  he  saw  these  two 
little  girls  among  the  other  slaves,  and  pitied  them.  He 
pitied  them  all,  but  he  had  no  power  to  take  them  away 
from  their  cruel  masters.  An  idea  struck  him;  I  will 
make  these  men  give  me  those  little  girls  in  pay  for  the 
food  and  water  I  have  given  them,  and  take  them  to 
Gaboon  to  my  friends  the  missionaries.  Thus  Pale  and 
Mbute  were  rescued." 

Of  the  tribal  origin  of  those  two  girls,  something  might 
be  conjectured  from  their  names.  "Pale"  means 
"safely;"  "Mbute"  is  an  attempt  to  pronounce  our 
EngHsh  word^" bottle."  Both  words  are  of  Benga  origin. 
That  the  boat  they  were  found  in  started  on  its  journey 
from  Cape  Lopez,  a  degree  south  of  the  Equator,  would 
not  necessarily  prove  that  all  its  occupants  had  come 
from  that  region.  All  the  tribes  of  that  region,  and 
south  of  it  several  hundred  miles  toward  the  Kongo 
river,  are  cognate  with  the  Mpongwe  of  the  Gaboon. 
Benga  and  its  cognates  are  north  of  Gaboon.  These 
girls  might  have  originally  been  sold  from  the  north. 
Or,  it  is  possible  that  they  were  born  in  the  region  of  the 
Kongo  river  whose  dialects  again  are  cognate  with  the 
Benga. 

They  were  placed  in  school,  along  with  the  other  four 
re-captives,  where  they  almost  all  remained,  till  they  grew 
up  to  young  manhood  and  womanhood.     Though  really 


74  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

freed,  none  of  those  children  were  ever  so  regarded  by 
their  free  school-mates.  Having  no  home  but  Baraka, 
they  always  remained  there  during  vacations;  and 
always  were  used  by  the  missionaries  as  servants ;  which 
fact  unintentionally  gave  them  a  semi-slave  status  in 
the  eyes  of  the  children  of  wealthy  Mpongwe  headmen 
who  themselves  owned  slaves.  The  mark  slavery  had 
made  on  these  poor  children  never  wore  out  from  their 
character,  notwithstanding  the  equality  the  Mission 
had  officially  given  them.  Their  habits  betrayed  the 
humble  origin  of  at  least  four  of  them,  as  members  of 
some  interior  dwarf  tribe.  Most  of  them  stole,  from 
mere  force  of  habit,  when  they  no  longer  had  need  to 
do  so.  In  the  midst  of  good  food,  some  of  them  kept 
up  their  early  habit  of  eating  clay.  Their  manner  was 
furtive,  their  traits  ignoble  and  treacherous ;  and  the  dis- 
positions of  two  of  them  cruel.  But  they  were  all  in- 
telUgent,  and,  especially  the  boys,  learned  to  read  rapidly. 
In  six  weeks  after  their  arrival  some  of  them  were  read- 
ing easy  words;  "and  in  three  months  they  were  learn- 
ing verses  in  Mpongwe  Gospel  of  St.  John."  They  all 
of  them  subsequently  professed  Christianity. 

One  of  the  four  boys  was  named  Jack.  I  remember 
seeing  him  on  my  visits  to  Baraka  from  my  own  station 
on  Corisco  island  and  at  the  Benita  River,  at  various 
times  between  1861  and  1871.  He  had  learned  to  read, 
and  had  acquired  some  little  knowledge;  but  he  had 
no  taste  for  books.  His  line  of  usefulness  developed 
into  that  of  a  cook.  Though  he  had  not  much  skill  in 
this  art,  a  valuable  point  about  him  was  that  he  was  per- 
manent. As  his  home  was  Baraka,  he  was  always  on 
hand,  and  was  not  liable  to  leave  without  notice,  as  the 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  75 

free  Mpongwe  cooks  constantly  did  on  slight  provoca- 
tion. He  did  not  attempt  to  run  away  into  trade ;  he  had 
not  enough  wit  for  finance.  He  was  made  somewhat 
of  a  butt  by  the  school  girls  for  their  jokes,  which  he 
generally  bore  patiently.  But,  intemperance  was  his 
failing;  and  when  he  yielded  to  it,  his  words  were  curses 
and  his  acts  dangerous.  He  is  dead.  Notwithstanding 
his  failings,  there  was  hope  in  his  death. 

A  second  boy  was  named  Jlaruga.  His  intelligence 
was  quicker  than  Jack's.  Mrs.  Preston  wrote  of  him: 
"It  was  funny  to  see  little  Maruga  lying  on  his  back, 
kicking  up  his  heels,  and  groaning  over  his  task  (of 
learning  a  verse  of  Scripture  to  be  repeated  at  morning 
worship).  'O!  these  verses  will  be  the  death  of  me  yet.' 
I  heard  him  say.  But  when  the  boys  came  to  read  the 
Bible  stories  around  the  table  in  my  room,  they  liked 
it  better." 

His  line  of  usefulness  developed  into  that  of  a  cow- 
herd. Baraka,  at  that  time,  kept  a  herd  of  a  dozen 
cows,  enjoyed  its  own  fresh  milk  and  cream,  and  occasion- 
ally a  little  butter,  until  the  depredations  of  the  cattle 
on  the  native  plantations  caused  the  local  French  magis- 
trate's decision  that  they  must  be  fenced  in.  Fencing 
was  too  expensive;  and  the  cattle  were  sold.  Maruga 
was  kind  to  animals,  and  could  manage  the  only  par- 
tially domesticated  cows,  which  would  not  "let  down" 
their  milk  unless  their  calves  were  near  them,  and 
which  immediately  "went  dry"  if  their  calf  died.  Dur- 
ing my  residence  at  Benita  Station  in  1869,  cow's  milk 
became  a  necessity  for  the  life  of  my  infant  son.  I  ob- 
tained a  cow  from  Baraka,  and  Maruga  was  sent  along 
for  a  few  weeks  to  teach  my  Kombe  tribe  employees 


76  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

how  to  take  care  of  and  how  to  milk  the  cow.  He  did 
his  duty  well  and  skillfully.  He  died  in  early  manhood, 
and  in  Christian  hope. 

The  third  boy  was  Retenlo.  He  was  of  intelligence 
still  brighter  than  Maruga's,  but  his  temper  was  some- 
times objectionable,  and  he  was  impatient  of  steady 
work.  His  line  of  usefulness  developed  into  that  of  a 
valet.  When  I  went  to  pioneer  the  Ogowe  in  1874,  I 
was  unable  to  speak  the  Mpongwe  dialect.  I  spoke  the 
Benga,  and  I  expected  to  meet  a  tribe,  the  Okota,  which 
was  cognate  with  Benga.  I  took  with  me  a  Benga-Eng- 
lish-speaking  Kombe  Christian  young  man  from  Benita, 
as  my  cook  and  general  house-helper.  I  did  not  reach 
the  Okota  tribe,  and  for  two  years  I  stayed  among  the 
Bakele  people,  their  dialect  being  slightly  cognate  to 
the  Benga.  But  when,  in  1876,  I  had  to  settle  among 
the  Galwa,  a  Mpongwe-speaking  tribe,  my  Benga  was 
of  no  use.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Bushnell  of  Libreville  sent 
Retenlo  to  me  as  interpreter  and  general  assistant.  He 
was  competent;  but  he  had  come  unwillingly;  and  he 
wearied  of  my  service.  And  not  only  mine,  but  on  re- 
turning to  Dr.  Bushnell,  he  abandoned  him  also,  and 
went  off  into  trade  with  its  temptations  of  liquor  and 
Sabbath-breaking.  He  was  a  church-member.  I  do 
not  know  the  place,  or  time  or  circumstances  of  his  death. 

The  fourth  boy,  Njambia.  got  tired  of  school  and 
work,  and  thought  he  would  have  an  easier  time  by 
running  away.  I  do  not  know  what  became  of  him, 
whether  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  some  other  tribe  and 
was  reduced  to  slavery,  or  whether  he  soon  died. 

Of  the  two  girls.  Pale,  or  (as  her  name  was  Anglicised) 
Polly,  was  painfully  deformed  by  her  mouth  being  drawn 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  77 

to  one  side.  Also,  having  fallen,  during  an  epileptic  fit, 
into  the  fire  that  burns  constantly  in  the  centre  of  the 
clay  floor  of  ordinary  native  houses,  one  of  her  legs  was 
so  severely  burned  as  permanently  to  lame  her.  She 
was  naturally  of  a  kind  and  affectionate  disposition; 
but,  having  been  so  often  unkindly  twitted  by  other  girls 
because  of  her  deformities,  her  temper  was  spoiled,  and 
she  would  fly  into  dreadful  passions.  She  was  in  Mrs. 
Nassau's  employ  for  a  short  time  while  I  was  stationed 
at  Benita  in  the  Kombe  tribe,  ninety  miles  north  of 
Gaboon,  and  at  that  time  she  was  grown  to  womanhood. 
With  us  she  was  obedient  and  affectionate.  But  she 
was  ever  ready  to  take  offense  at  what  she  called  "  curses  " 
(really  only  insults)  from  other  natives;  and  we  were 
frequently  annoyed  by  our  having  to  listen  to  the  petty 
wordy  quarrels  brought  to  us  for  judgment.  Her  own 
mind,  not  well  balanced,  was  the  cause  of  some  of  these 
quarrels.  She  married  a  young  Kombe  man.  It  was 
not  a  happy  marriage.  He  made  a  practical  slave  of  her; 
and  I  had  to  interfere. 

She  was  at  heart  a  good  woman.  She  died  a  few  years 
after  her  marriage,  with  her  faith  clear  in  Jesus  and  the 
Resurrection. 

But  of  the  seven  re-captives  the  only  one  who  lived  to 
become  of  extended  usefulness  was  the  larger  of  the  two 
girls,  who  had  been  given  an  English  name  "Julia." 
Physically  she  was  normally  developed,  as  she  seemed 
to  have  come  from  a  tribe  different  from  the  other 
dwarfish  ones.  She  grew  up  from  "little"  girlhood  to 
"big"  girlhood,  and  thence  to  young  womanhood;  and, 
as  a  young  woman,  was  relied  on  by  Mrs.  Bushnell  as  her 
chief   servant,    and   subsequently   as   assistant   teacher. 


78  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

She  was  given  these  positions,  not  so  much  because  of 
a  special  fitness,  but  because  of  her  availabiUty  and 
her  subserviency.  Having  no  home  but  Baraka,  she  was 
always  available ;  and  having  no  tribal  bonds,  her  willing- 
ness to  act  as  spy  made  her  subservient  to  the  discipline 
of  the  school,  and  gained  for  her  at  least  missionary 
commendation  in  her  positions  of  brief  authority.  But 
even  while  thus  employed,  she  was  known  by  some  of  the 
other  girls  to  be  not  only  severe  and  even  cruel  to  them, 
but  deceitful  to  the  very  missionaries  who  trusted  her. 

Some  of  the  younger  girls  retained  all  their  lives  bitter 
memories  because  of  her  cruelty  to  them.  She  married 
well;  but  her  low  characteristics  followed  her  into  her 
married  life;  and  these,  together  with  a  quarrelsome 
tongue,  were  among  the  causes  that  led  to  her  desertion 
by  her  Mpongwe  husband. 

With  her  only  child,  a  daughter,  she  then  returned  to 
the  Baraka  home,  where  she  obtained  employment  as 
matron. 

Divine  grace  gradually  refined  her  nature,  so  that 
notwithstanding  the  ungenerous  traits  that  clung  to 
her  to  the  very  last  of  her  life,  she  was  employed  by  the 
Mission  as  a  Biblereader,  and  became  qiiite  useful  in 
village  itineration. 

She  lived,  as  grand-mother,  to  see  her  daughter's 
family  of  attractive  little  children  around  her.  Under  a 
surgical  operation,  she  died  a  number  of  years  ago,  re- 
spected for  her  church  evangelistic  work. 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  79 


Tale,  No.  9. 
A  Little   Fag's   Experience, 

THE  school  children  were  very  unlike  in  many 
respects.  Most  were  free-born ;  some  slave;  some 
the  children  of  slaves.  The  parents  of  some 
were  poor;  of  some  rich.  Some  of  the  children  of  the  rich 
were  proud  and  haughty. 

They  differed  in  character,  both  poor  and  rich,  slave 
and  free.  Some  were  kind,  always  kind;  some  chose 
to  be  ugly  in  speech  and  cruel  to  others.  This  made 
trouble  and  much  sorrow  for  the  younger  children,  and 
even  spoiled  their  characters.  Under  severity,  though 
they  would  be  obedient,  yet  only  through  fear;  and 
they  learned  to  be  deceitful.  Being  oppressed,  some 
were  actually  made  to  be  rebellious  and  disobedient. 
Especially  if  the  older  ones  had  been  given  formal  au- 
thority or  charge  over  the  younger  ones.  Sometimes 
when  these  younger  ones  were  ill-treated  by  the  older 
ones,  they  would  keep  their  wrongs  in  mind  and  go  and 
tell  these  things  to  their  parents  in  their  village  when 
they  had  a  chance;  or  else  would  run  away  to  their 
homes  to  escape  persecution  by  these  older  girls.  They 
did  this,  not  because  they  did  not  like  books,  or  the  mis- 
sionaries, but  just  because  of  ill-treatment  by  a  few  cruel 
large  girls.    This  made  them  dislike  to  live  in  the  Mission. 

On  the  other  hand,  some  little  girls  were  afraid  to  dare 
to  tell  their  parents,  or  even  the  missionary,  how  they 
were  being  treated,  and  they  suffered  in  silence  while  they 
were  living  in  daily  terror. 


80  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

In  this  Tale,  I  tell  of  what  happened  between  one  little 
fag  and  the  big  girl  in  whose  care  she  had  been  placed. 
The  little  girl,  grown  to  be  a  woman,  told  me  herself.  She 
is  not  now  living. 

When  that  little  girl  first  came  to  the  school,  this  big 
girl  was  Mrs.  Bushnell's  trusted  assistant.  The  child  was 
the  youngest  of  all  the  pupils  at  that  time,  about  1858. 
She  was  only  about  five  years  old.  In  her  parents'  home 
she  had  known  nothing  but  kindness;  her  father  always 
bought  her  abundance  of  nice  things,  and  by  his  many 
servants  she  had  been  treated  tenderly.  She  was  too 
young  to  obey  all  school  rules.  So  Mrs.  Bushnell  took  her, 
not  so  much  as  a  pupil,  but  as  if  she  were  her  own  child, 
and  used  to  take  much  care  of  her  herself.  Certain 
works  that  had  to  be  done  for  her  were  to  be  performed 
by  this  native  assistant,  to  whose  care  she  was  committed. 
In  making  this  arrangement  Mrs.  Bushnell  thought  she 
was  doing  well  for  her  little  protege,  by  putting  her  in 
the  especial  care  of  her  trusted  big  girl.  But  it  turned 
out  to  be  the  very  worst  for  the  child.  That  assistant 
was  hard  in  her  treatment  of  her  all  the  time.  She 
constantly  acted  to  her  unkindly,  without  cause,  as  far 
as  the  child  knew.  On  the  little  girl's  part,  she  had,  in 
childlike  confidence,  accepted  that  assistant,  was  ready 
to  like  her,  and  called  her  "ngwe"  (mother).  But  that 
infantile  affection  did  not  seem  to  soften  the  older  girl 
or  make  things  any  better  at  all  for  the  younger.  The 
older  one's  apparent  hatred  of  the  younger  one  only  grew 
more  and  more  marked.  So  that  whenever  she  had  a 
chance  to  give  the  child  pain,  when  the  Mistress  was  not 
near,  she  would  do  it.  She  would  call  the  child  inside  the 
school  room  alone  or  behind  the  school-house,  and  seek 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  81 

occasion  for  discipline  by  charging  her  with  having 
committed  some  small  offence,  e.  g.,  that  she  had  spilled 
water  on  the  floor,  or  had  left  a  garment  out  of  place. 
If  the  child  denied  or  tried  to  defend  herself  against  the 
charge,  she  would  give  her  a  hard  knock;  or  she  would 
step  on  the  child's  foot,  putting  her  own  big  toe  bent, 
so  as  to  dig  the  toe-nail  into  the  child's  flesh.  Or,  she 
would  seize  a  fold  of  the  skin  of  the  child's  abdomen  and 
twist  it  hard ;  or,  catching  her  by  an  ear,  would  jerk  her 
about.  All  this  while,  with  terrible  threats,  she  would 
not  allow  the  child  to  scream  or  make  any  loud  outcry; 
she  could  only  whimper  in  fear.  This  the  young  womai) 
did  so  often  that  the  child,  living  in  constant  dread  of  her 
especially  when  they  happened  to  be  alone,  actually  lost 
appetite  and  became  sick.  Yet,  under  fear  of  the  threats, 
she  dared  not  tell  the  Mistress,  nor,  when  under  torture, 
did  she  dare  make  an  outcry,  lest  the  older  girl  should 
be  still  harder  on  her,  who  always  made  fearful  sug- 
gestions of  what  she  would  do  if  the  child  informed  on  her. 
It  happened  one  day  that  this  little  girl  was  sent  by 
the  Mistress  on  an  errand  to  the  yard  of  the  "Upper" 
house.  The  Baraka  premises  are  a  small  hill  or  ridge 
on  the  top  of  which  was  Rev.  Mr.  Walker's  house  and  the 
Boys'  School;  a  few  hundred  yards  distant  lower  down 
was  Mrs.  Bushnell's  dwelling-house  and  Girls'  School. 
Both  families  had  their  special  girl  and  boy  household 
assistants.  A  cousin  of  the  child,  by  name  Lizzie,  lived 
in  the  household  of  the  upper  yard;  she  was  one  of  the 
big  girls  there,  as  large  as  the  little  girl's  tormentor.  She 
was  surprised  to  see  the  child  looking  so  thin  and  dis- 
tressed, and  asked  her  if  she  was  sick.  These  kind  in- 
quiries opened  the  little  one's  lips;  and  she  dared  to  con- 


82  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

fide  to  her  cousin  that  it  was  just  because  of  the  young 
woman's  ill-treatment  of  her  that  she  was  sick.  Her 
cousin  asked  her  more  questions ;  and  she  told  her  every- 
thing. The  cousin  was  much  surprised,  and  very  much 
displeased.  She  said  she  knew  that  the  big  girls  were 
sometimes  hard  on  their  little  fags,  but  had  never  heard 
of  one  being  so  cruel  as  this  young  woman  was.  She 
asked  the  child  why  she  had  not  informed  the  Mistress; 
and  the  child  told  her  about  the  young  woman's  threats. 
Then  the  cousin  said,  "If  that  is  so,  I  feel  like  fighting 
her  myself.  But  as  we  big  girls  are  not  allowed  to  fight 
m  this  yard  of  Mr.  Walker,  I  cannot  go  to  make  confusion 
•on  Mrs.  Bushnell's  yard;  and  as  you  yourself  are  afraid 
to  tell  even  your  parents,  I  will  see  that  girl  is  put  a  stop 
to ;  for  I  will  go  and  call  our  young  aunt  Anyure,  who  is 
about  the  same  age  as  this  girl  and  myself.  Then  Anyure 
and  I  we  two  will  find  her  when  she  is  outside  the  two 
yards  down  at  the  spring,  and  we  will  have  a  good  fight 
with  her  there."  So,  the  next  day,  the  cousin  went 
down  to  town  to  tell  the  aunt  the  cruel  story.  She  was 
very  much  put  out  about  it,  dressed  herself  for  a  fight, 
and  came  up  to  Baraka.  Her  niece  Lizzie  had  first  re- 
turned to  her  own  (Mr.  Walker's)  yard;  and  the  aunt 
following  openly  entered  Mrs.  Bushnell's  yard,  and  called 
her  little  niece,  and  said,  "Call  that  big  girl  to  me  here. 
Tell  her  that  if  she  considers  herself  a  woman,  she  must 
go  with  me  and  fight  for  what  she  has  been  doing  to 
you."  Also  she  blamed  the  little  girl  for  having  kept 
silent  about  such  things.  The  child  went  to  the  school- 
house  to  call  the  young  woman,  and  told  her  what  her 
aunt  had  said.  When  this  assistant  came  out  of  the 
school-house,  instead  of  going  straight  to  the  yard  to  the 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  83 

aunt,  she  avoided  her  and  went  across  to  the  dweUing- 
house  of  the  Mistress,  thus  showing  that  she  was  afraid 
of  Anyure.  The  latter  saw  her  going,  and  called  to  her 
not  to  go  to  that  house,  and  not  to  speak  to  the  Mistress. 
But  the  other  went  on,  and  made  only  a  vague  reply. 
So  the  aunt  kept  calling  to  her,  "Don't  you  go  there! 
The  Mistress  will  hear  your  voice."  But  the  other  cow- 
ardly went  there  for  refuge,  stood  on  the  veranda  of  the 
dwelling-house,  and  began  to  talk  loudly,  purposely  that 
the  Mistress  might  hear  and  come  and  protect  her.  Still 
the  aunt  kept  saying,  "Don't  you  talk  there!  Come 
outside  this  yard  and  face  me!  " 

The  Mistress  heard  the  loud  talking,  and  came  out  on 
to  the  veranda  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  The  assistant 
told  her,  "Anyure  has  come  here  to  try  to  fight  me." 
Then  Mrs.  Bushnell  told  Anyure  that  there  cotdd  be  no 
fighting  in  her  yard.  Anyure  respectfully  repUed,  "I 
have  more  sense  than  to  come  and  fight  in  your  yard. 
I  called  her  to  come  outside."  So  Anyure  said  to  the 
other,  "Well!  you  are  brave  against  a  weak  little  child; 
and  a  coward  that  you  won't  come  and  meet  me.  I  go. 
But  I'll  watch  my  chance! "  And  she  turned  to  her 
little  niece,  and  bade  her,  openly  before  Mrs.  Bushnell 
and  the  assistant,  that  whatever  the  latter  did  or 
threatened  to  do  to  her,  she  was  to  come  straight  to  town 
and  tell  her:  "Then  I'll  fight  her  whenever  I  see  her 
walking  in  the  villages  or  off  the  Mission  premises." 
From  that  minute  the  child  felt  free  from  fear.  A  great 
burden  was  lifted  from  her  young  life.  Mrs.  Bushnell 
had  left  the  veranda,  and  had  gone  back  into  her  house. 
The  assistant  turned  toward  the  child  and  said  spitefully, 
"Thank  you,  for  telling  on  me  to  your  aunt!"     The  child 


84  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

had  no  more  fear  of  her,  and  dared  to  reply,  "Yes,  I  told; 
and  I  don't  want  to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  you, 
nor  you  to  take  care  of  me.  Leave  me  alone.  I  will 
try  to  take  care  of  myself."  Though  she  was  not  able 
to  do  it,  she  began  at  once  to  try  and  do  up  her  own  cloth- 
ing. For,  from  that  day  she  was  free  from  that  young 
woman's  control.  Mrs.  Bushnell  did  not  require  her  to 
go  back  to  her;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  did  Mrs.  Bushnell 
publicly  investigate  this  affair.  Perhaps  she  began  to 
doubt  her  assistant,  and  her  eyes  began  to  see  through 
her  duplicity ;  for,  she  had  heard  enough  from  that  young 
aunt  to  understand  that  something  was  wrong.  But  the 
young  woman  had  been  her  favorite,  and,  for  very  shame, 
she  would  save  so  big  a  girl  an  examination  that  would 
have  degraded  her  from  her  trusted  position,  if  witnesses 
of  other  offences  against  Mrs.  Bushnell  herself  had  been 
called  in,  now  that  other  sufferers  saw  that  they  could 
speak  and  not  be  beaten  down. 

The  lonely  little  girl  tried  to  do  her  own  washing ;  and 
she  got  some  big  girls,  who  she  knew  were  kind,  to  help 
her  with  the  rinsing  and  ironing.  She  would  go  to  them 
timidly  smiling,  and  say,  "Please  do  this  for  me,  and 
I  will  do  some  little  errands  for  you; "  and  they  did  it. 

But  this  could  not  last  long;  for  she  was  too  small, 
and  was  not  strong.  Shortly  after  this,  one  of  the  "big" 
girls,  a  daughter  of  another  wealthy  Trade-man,  her- 
self voluntarily  took  her.  She  was  a  very  kind  and 
amiable  girl;  and  the  little  one  made  the  advance, 
"Won't  you  take  me?"  And  she  was  pleased  to  do  so, 
without  any  formal  assignment  by  Mrs.  Bushnell.  So 
she  took  the  child,  and  was  very  kind  to  her,  in  making 
and   mending  her   clothes,   and  in   arranging  her   hair. 


TALES   OUT   OF   SCHOOL.  85 

She  never  gave  the  child  a  harsh  word  or  one  single 
blow.  Whenever  she  was  ironing  or  doing  other  works, 
the  loving  little  one  would  stand  by  her  side  watching 
closely  so  as  to  learn,  and  happy  to  do  any  small  errands 
for  her. 

Not  long  afterward  this  amiable  girl  married,  and  the 
younger  one  was  very  sorry  indeed  to  part  with  her;  for 
she  was  attached  to  her  as  to  an  older  sister,  and  she 
missed  her  very  much  when  she  left  the  school.  The 
older  one  is  still  living;  and  as  long  as  the  other  one 
lived,  the  two  women  loved  each  other.  They  did  not 
forget  those  days;  and,  when  they  visited  each  other, 
they  talked  about  all  that  happened  when  they  were 
school-girls. 

By  the  time  that  this  older  one  left  school,  the  younger 
had  learned  some  things,  and  was  old  enough  to  begin  to 
look  out  for  herself. 

Her  tormentor  escaped  punishment  at  the  hands  of 
that  young  aunt ;  but  she  never  dared  to  touch  the  child 
again.  She  remained  long  in  the  Mission's  employ.  The 
little  girl  grew  to  be  a  "big"  girl  alongside  of  her,  but 
magnanimously  bore  no  ill-will  for  the  cruelty  to  her  in 
her  childhood.  They  did  not  speak  of  those  past  things. 
The  two  women  often  had  to  work  together,  as  the  grown 
up  child  was  now  used  by  the  Mission  as  assistant  teacher. 
But  the  other  one  never  was  friendly  to  her,  though  they 
both  were  professing  Christians  and  church-members. 
Her  malice  toward  the  younger  continued  to  be  shown 
by  mean  insinuations  against  her,  long  after  they  both 
had  ceased  to  have  any  connection  with  the  school,  and 
even  after  she  herself  had  become  a  grandmother  of 
little  children.     They  both  are  dead.     The  elder  died  a 


86  TALES    OUT    OF     SCHOOL. 

number  of  years  before  the  younger.  Religion  some- 
what refined  her ;  sickness  moUified  her ;  but  even  in  her 
best  days,  when  she  and  the  girl,  fifteen  years  younger 
than  herself,  who  had  been  her  school-fag,  were  grown 
women,  she  would  not  affiliate  with  her.  Perhaps 
it  was  impossible  for  two  such  contrary  natures  to 
affiliate:  the  younger,  free-born,  noble,  magnanimous, 
truthful,  and  ready  to  forgive  the  wrong  that  had  been 
done  her;  the  older  one,  of  low  birth,  ignoble,  suspicious, 
deceitful,  and  apparently  unable  to  get  over  the  shame 
of  the  public  exposure  that  young  aunt  had  made  of  her 
treatment  of  her  little  fag. 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  87 

Tale,   No.    10. 
Friendships   and   Pastimes. 

IN   school,   the   children   had  many  different  ways  of 
making  friendships;    as  also  of  arousing  enmities. 
Some   would   at   times   start  up   a   quarrel,    (which 
might  result  in  an  actual  fight)  just  out  of  nothing. 

Some  friendships  were  made  from  the  very  beginning 
of  a  child's  arrival,  two  saying,  "Let  us  be  friends  and 
have  no  quarrels  at  all."  Sometimes  this  amicable 
agreement  was  kept.  At  other  times,  if  one  of  the  two 
was  a  little  more  disposed  to  be  vexatious  than  the  other, 
she  would  start  an  altercation  even  with  her  friend. 
Perhaps  that  friend  would  take  it  up.  Then,  soon  after 
their  difference,  they  would  make  up  again,  and  retain 
their  friendship.  But,  instead  of  taking  up  the  offense, 
the  more  peaceable  one  would  sometimes  say,  "Are  you 
going  to  quarrel  with  me?  I  thought  you  promised 
not  to.  Let  us  not  quarrel,  lest  others  laugh  at  us  for 
breaking  our  bargain."  Then  they  would  be  at  peace. 
They  would  be  seen  most  of  the  time  together,  when 
out  of  regular  school  duties ;  always  together  in  any  kind 
of  play.  Among  the  plays,  one  of  which  the  children 
were  very  fond,  was  the  stringing  of  many  kinds  of  colored 
beads.  These  they  wore  as  chains  on  their  necks,  wrists 
and  ankles.  Another  play  was  the  making  of  rag-dolls; 
or,  instead  of  rags,  was  used  a  section,  about  a  foot  long, 
of  the  pithy  heart  of  a  plantain  stalk.  Longitudinally 
through  this  stalk  run  many  strong  fibres.  The  girls 
would  beat  one  end,  so  as  to  pound  away  the  pithy  pulp, 
leaving  only  the  fiber,  which  would  represent  the  hair 


88  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

of  a  human  head.  This  fiber  they  would  plait  and  braid 
just  as  the  older  girls  braided  their  own  hair  into  asara 
(chignons) .  Really,  the  first  lessons  in  the  art  of  dressing 
their  own  hair  were  obtained  in  working  over  the  fibers 
of  these  pieces  of  plantain-stalk.  The  rest  of  the  stalk, 
representing  the  doll's  body,  would  be  covered  with  a 
rag,  tied  in  the  native  style  of  cloth.  There  was  a  great 
deal  of  playing  at  "Young  Mother,"  with  these  doll- 
babies.  After  properly  fixing  up  the  doll's  hair  and 
clothing,  the  girls  would  take  their  own  turban  hand- 
kerchief to  tie  as  a  nyamba  (sling) .  [Instead  of  carrying 
a  babe  in  arms,  the  real  native  mode  is  to  have  a  long 
piece  of  cloth,  made  sometimes  of  native  woody  fiber, 
hung  as  a  sling  from  one  shoulder  of  the  mother,  generally 
the  right,  across  to  her  left  hip.  The  infant  sits  in  the 
bight  of  the  sling,  its  legs  astride  of  the  mother's  left  hip, 
whose  left  arm  is  around  its  back.  Her  right  arm  is  then 
free  for  work.] 

The  little  "mothers"  would  thus  carry  their  doll-babies 
around  to  show  them  to  others,  "See  !  this  is  my  child." 
"Yes;  I  see  it.  It  is  very  pretty.  Let  me  handle  it." 
Then  it  would  be  pulled  out  of  the  nyamba,  to  be  fondled. 

Another  play  was  the  making  of  an  Ulako  or  camp. 
A  little  place  would  be  chosen  under  a  shady  tree.  One 
part  would  be  cleared  as  a  sitting-room  or  parlor.  In 
another  part  would  be  gathered  a  lot  of  dried  leaves 
with  a  cloth  spread  over  them  as  a  bed-room ;  and  another 
place,  a  little  way  off,  was  the  kitchen.  The  sitting- 
room  and  bed-room  were  to  be  "pretend;"  but  the 
kitchen  was  to  be  real.  The}^  would  have  their  kitchen 
utensils ;  for  plates,  any  pieces  of  broken  crockery,  and 
for  pot  or  kettle,  empty  meat  cans.     Before  going  to  the 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  89 

kitchen,  their  babies  were  to  be  put  to  sleep  in  the  bed- 
room and  covered  with  a  small  piece  of  cloth  as  a  quilt. 
They  would  leave  one  of  their  little  companions  to  watch 
the  sleeping  doll-babies,  the  while  they  go  off  for  fire- 
wood, saying,  "  If  the  child  cries,  call  me.  Or,  if  it  cries 
very  much,  just  take  it  up  and  fondle  it  till  I  come." 
Then  after  they  return  with  their  dried  sticks,  they  would 
be  sure  to  ask,  "Has  the  child  been  crying?  Has  it 
made  you  any  trouble?"  Most  of  the  time  the  answer 
will  be,  "No;  not  much." 

Then  the  little  mothers  will  begin  to  do  some  small 
cooking  in  their  tins.  If  they  had  saved  a  portion  of 
fish  from  their  own  food  ration  or  been  given  some  from 
their  villages,  they  used  this  in  their  play.  They  mixed 
it  up  with  a  pottage  of  greens  made  from  sweet  potato 
leaves,  or  from  a  slightly  sour  and  mucilaginous  leaf 
**okolo;"  or  they  made  a  soup,  throwing  into  it  half  a 
handful  of  rice,  if  they  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  have 
been  presented  with  some.  Sometimes  all  this  would 
be  nicely  cooked,  and  would  be  enjoyed  with  salt  and 
cayenne  native  pepper  and  an  "oguma"  (cassava  roll) 
or  plantain.  But  sometimes  the  girl  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  manage  the  cooking  was  not  skillful  in  setting 
the  tin  on  the  fire-place,  the  three  stones  of  which  were 
not  always  equal  in  size  or  even  in  height.  [The  in- 
variable native  fire-place  consists  of  three  stones  set  at 
the  angles  of  a  small  isosceles  triangle;  the  faggots  for 
the  fire  are  not  laid  criss-cross  on  each  other,  but  are 
thrust,  ends  under  the  pot,  through  the  three  open  sides 
of  that  triangle.  Very  often,  and  always  among  skillful 
adult  women,  instead  of  stones,  three  logs  are  used,  the 
pot  resting  on  an  end  of  each  at  the  angles  of  that  same 


90  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

triangle ;  and  the  logs,  as  the  ends  bum  away,  are  pushed 
forward.  Smaller  sticks  are  from  time  to  time,  as  kind- 
ling wood,  thrust  under  the  pot  through  the  open  sides 
of  the  triangle.  A  draft,  for  retaining  a  constantly  burn- 
ing fire,  is  thus  obtained,  better  than  if  the  faggots  were 
piled  up  criss-cross.] 

Sometimes  in  her  pushing  a  faggot  under  the  tin,  a 
dreadful  accident  would  happen.  The  tin  is  upset  from 
its  precarious  position,  the  soup  extinguishes  the  fire, 
and  the  solid  contents  of  the  tin  are  lying  in  the  wet 
ashes,  and  perhaps  are  not  fit  to  be  gathered  up.  Then, 
what  an  ozaza  (complaint)  bursts  out!  If  there  were 
two  or  three  who  expected  to  join  in  eating  the  food, 
some  of  them  will  begin  to  grumble,  "A!  ndo!  (but) 
nyawe!  (No!)  What  are  we  going  to  eat?"  Another, 
"But  I  claim  my  part  of  the  fish.  I  will  not  go  hungry. 
You  had  no  skill.  You  could  have  managed  it  if  you 
had  done  the  right  way."  "But  I  tried!  I  could  not 
prevent  it.  I  did  not  want  to  burn  my  hands."  "You 
should  have  taken  a  bunch  of  leaves,  or  a  fold  of 
your  dress,  and  lifted  the  pot  off  of  the  fire  before  you 
put  the  wood  under.  That  would  not  have  burned  your 
hands.  Then  you  could  have  fixed  the  stones  straight,  and 
put  the  pot  on  again."  She  replies,  "Nevermind!  But 
I  will  try  to  do  it  over."  She  goes  to  get  a  fire-brand 
from  another  olako.  Sometimes  one  will  intercept  her, 
saying,  "But  I'm  not  going  to  eat  food  after  it  has  been 
on  the  ground."  But  some,  if  they  are  friendly,  in  order 
to  comfort  the  unfortunate  little  cook,  and  to  make  up 
for  having  rebuked  her,  will  share  in  the  eating  of  the 
food  after  she  has  brushed  off  the  ashes  and  cooked  it 
again,  even  if  they  do  not  like  it.      Sometimes  the  little 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  91 

cook  is  SO  unskillful  that  the  pot  goes  over  a  second  time. 
Then  up  go  the  exclamations  of  all  in  disgust,  and  in 
ridicule,  "E!  E!  E!"  She  protests,  "A!  never  mind! 
I'll  try  it  over."  "E!  try  it  over?  What  do  you  mean 
by  that?  Food  taken  from  dirt  which  people  have  been 
treading  on!  Don't  try  it!  No  one  will  have  it."  Then 
perhaps  a  quarrel  begins  between  the  little  cook  and 
the  one  who  had  berated  her  most.  Now  then  the  fun 
of  the  olako  is  broken.  Each  one  takes  up  her  doll-baby 
from  the  bed-room,  and  goes  and  starts  an  olako  by 
herself.  Or,  perhaps  they  make  up  the  quarrel  and  go 
and  begin  a  play  of  hide-and-seek;  or  of  rope-jumping. 
Another  play  was  "  Nkegendia  "  (tickling) .  Three  or  four 
will  agree  to  take  turns  in  being  tickled.  The  others 
will  surround  the  victim,  and  enjoy  her  wriggling  to 
escape,  as  they  combine  to  tickle  her  in  the  ribs  or  other 
known  sensitive  parts  of  the  body.  Finally  she  falls,  and 
they  all  tumble  in  a  confused  heap  on  top  of  her. 

Another  play  was  '*Demb'-opa"  (wrestling).  But 
sometimes  the  friendly  "opa"  ended  in  a  fight,  when 
the  wrestHng  was  done  roughly,  so  as  to  throw  the  other 
one  to  the  ground. 

After  the  playing  was  finished,  they  would  go  back 
to  the  olako  to  collect  their  utensils,  and  put  them  away 
for  another  day,  in  the  Girls'  house. 


92  tales  out  of  school. 

Tale,   No.    11. 
Quarrels  and  Fighting. 

OUARRELS  came  from  a  great  variety  of  causes. 
A  common  one  was  about  the  spring  of  water. 
When  it  was  time  for  the  daily  work  of 
bringing  of  water  from  the  spring,  each  one  of  the  two 
middle  classes  was  to  share  in  the  carrying.  But  as 
there  were  only  two  tin  dippers,  and  a  limited  number 
of  pails,  the  strife  would  be  who  could  first  secure  those 
utensils. 

Many  a  quarrel  might  have  been  prevented,  and 
much  annoyance  to  the  missionary  in  charge,  had  there 
been  a  less  unwise  economy  in  the  providing  of  dippers 
and  pails.  The  girls  who  failed  to  be  the  first  to  seize 
those  utensils  would  have  to  wait  till  the  others  had 
carried  their  stint.  The  object  of  all  was  to  get  our 
work  done  as  soon  as  possible,  so  that  we  might  resume 
play ;  meanwhile  the  waiting  ones  would  be  grumbling. 
As  the  pails  were  carried  on  the  girls'  heads,  which  had 
more  or  less  of  pomatum,  the  Mistress  objected  to  the 
pail  itself  being  dipped  into  the  pool.  Two  large  tin 
dippers  were  to  be  used  instead.  The  strife  then  was  to 
secure  the  dippers.  The  successful  one  would  be 
crowded  with  claims.  "When  you  finish  with  the  dipper, 
I  am  the  second  one.  Another,  "And  I  the  third." 
But  generally  there  would  be  several  who  would  be 
claiming  to  be  second  or  third.  Then  begins  an  alter- 
cation, each  one  saying,  "No.  I  said  'second'  before 
you  said  it."  "No,  it  was  I  who  spoke  first."  Then 
they  all  go  down  the  hill  to  the  dense  cluster  of  West 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  93 

India  bamboo  trees  where  the  spring  is,  all  talking 
together:  "I  said  I'd  be  second.  You'll  see  I'll  be  it." 
Another  says  to  the  possessor  of  the  dipper,  "I'm  your 
friend;  hand  it  to  me  as  soon  as  you  are  done."  Most 
of  the  time  the  possessor  of  the  dipper  would  be  the  one 
to  settle  the  question,  by  putting  the  dipper  into  the 
chosen  one's  pail  as  soon  as  herself  had  finished.  Then 
the  other  claimants  would  have  to  wait.  But  some- 
times the  one  with  the  dipper  will  say,  "I'll  not  decide." 
So  she  lays  it  down,  and  the  others  grab  for  it.  Then 
there  is  a  contest;  two  have  seized  it,  and  neither  will 
yield.  While  these  two  are  contesting  for  the  possession 
of  the  dipper,  the  others  cannot  wait,  and  they  dip 
their  pails  into  the  pool,  notwithstanding  pomatum. 

The  contest  goes  on,  and  one  of  the  two  presently 
gives  a  blow.  The  dipper  is  flung  aside,  and  they 
grapple  in  a  fight.  The  spring  was  a  difficult  spot  for 
such  a  contest,  the  ground  being  muddy  and  obstructed 
by  rocks  and  sticks.  Before  this  contest  is  over,  both 
parties  will  be  covered  with  mud;  and  the  stronger  one 
will  be  trying  to  push  the  other  into  the  pool  of  the 
spring.  Both  will  have  bruises  from  the  rocks,  and 
their  dresses  are  torn  to  shreds.  While  the  fight  is  on, 
some  of  the  girls  will  stand  only  as  spectators,  others 
inciting,  others  trying  to  make  peace.  Sometimes  it 
would  continue  so  long  that  the  Mistress  would  send  one 
or  two  of  the  big  girls  to  see  what  was  the  cause  of  the 
delay  in  the  bringing  of  the  water;  and  if  it  be  a  fight, 
to  bring  the  offenders  back  into  the  yard.  After  in- 
quiring how  the  case  stands,  she  would  make  them 
change  their  dresses,  and  for  punishment,  would  compel 
them  to  mend  the  torn  ones  at  once, — which  was  some- 


94  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

times  almost  impossible;  the  delinquents  saying,  "But 
we  are  not  able  to  mend  them.  Big  pieces  are  torn  out, 
and  the  sleeves  are  gone."  ''Then  you  will  go  and 
gather  the  pieces  out  of  the  mud."  Sometimes  they 
found  very  little  that  was  available;  and  the  dresses 
were  really  impossible  to  be  mended. 

Fighting  was  so  common  that  the  children  actually 
had  made  a  cleared  space  of  ground  for  that  special 
purpose,  which  we  called  "  Ereniza-mpungu "  (dispute 
settler) .  It  was  at  the  foot  of  a  big  rose-apple  tree  near 
the  school-house,  and  out  of  sight  of  the  dwelling- 
house.  The  fighting  was  held  at  this  place  at  either  of 
three  times  a  day.  Thus ; — Fighting  after  morning  school 
at  noon,  for  something  said  in  school.  A  taunt  having 
been  made,  the  reply  would  be,  "Wait  until  school  is 
out;  we'll  go  to  Ereniza-mpungu."  "All  right!"  As 
soon  as  school  was  out,  would  come  the  cry,  "I  call  you 
to  your  promise."  "Yes!  No  word!  I'm  ready!" 
Then  they  would  go  down  to  the  place,  tie  up  the  skirts 
of  their  dresses,  so  as  to  keep  their  legs  clear  lest  they 
trip,  and  the  fight  would  begin. 

Also,  after  afternoon  sewing  school,  at  four  o'clock. 
The  taunt  would  be  over  some  little  matter,  such  as  an 
accidental  exchange  of  needles;  or,  "Some  one  broke 
my  needle;"  or  "Some  one  has  taken  my  thimble." 
"Well!  wait  for  Ereniza-mpungu;  then,  out!"  Also, 
an  altercation  at  night  in  the  bed-room  over  a  mistake 
made  in  pulling  at  another's  bed-covering  instead  of 
one's  own.  "Stop,  that  is  mine!"  Then  next  morning 
it  was,  "Ereniza-mpungu!"  Also,  in  house-cleaning 
time,  it  was  necessary  to  hide  your  wash-rag,  so  that  next 
morning  you  would  not  be  late  to  work,  by  having  to 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  95 

look  for  another  one,  your's  having  been  lost  or  stolen. 
But  some  one  who  had  lost  or  mislaid  her  own,  finds  your 
hidden  one,  and  takes  it  to  another  room,  and  is  doing 
her  own  work  as  fast  as  she  can,  the  while  she  hears  you 
complaining,  "Who  has  taken  my  rag  from  under  the 
house?"  No  answer  from  any  one.  "I  will  come  and 
look  at  each  one  who  is  cleaning  and  see  my  wash-rag  and 
will  take  it!"  Entering  at  each  room  she  describes, 
"My  rag!  My  rag  is  color  so-and-so,  from  such-and- 
such  an  old  dress  or  pair  of  pantaloons."  If  she  finds  it 
with  any  one,  then,  "What  did  you  do  that  for?  You 
shall  clean  not  only  your  own  place  but  mine  too." 
"Ime!  (what!)  I  won't  do  it."  "Then  you  sha'n't  finish 
your  own."  And  she  snatches,  or  tries  to  snatch  her 
rag  away.  Sometimes  the  offender  is  willing  to  yield; 
and  she  asks  others  to  let  her  use  theirs  when  they  are 
done.  But  if  she  is  not  willing  to  give  it  up  before  she 
has  finished  the  room  she  is  at,  then  there  is  a  fight  on 
the  spot,  or  an  appointment  to  Ereniza-mpungu.  So 
much  fighting  was  done  at  Ereniza-mpungu  that  the 
grass  did  not  grow  there. 

Sometimes  several  pairs  of  these  dueUsts  would  be 
carrying  on  their  contests  there  at  the  same  time.  They 
would  be  punished  by  the  missionary  for  fighting;  but 
they  continued  to  do  it  all  the  same.  ; 


96  tales  out  of  school. 

Tale,   No.    12. 
Pranks. 

[There  is  something  pecuHar,  the  world  over,  in  both  heathen 
and  Christian  lands,  about  the  academic  conscience.  Under 
the  plea  of  "fun"  and  youthful  exuberance,  it  allows,  in  its  ethics, 
words  and  deeds  which  the  Philistine  code  of  morals  denominates 
as  lying,  cheating  and  stealing.  For  the  safety  of  the  world,  it 
is  gratifying  to  know  that  these  same  young  barbarian  Bohemians, 
in  after  years,  develop  a  conscience  that  honors  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments in  Pulpit,  Press,  Law,  Medicine,  the  Market,  the 
Farm  and  the  Household,  and  which  even  beautifies  the  Church.] 

AS  school  children  always  are  up  to  some  kind  of 
^  mischief  or  fun,  we  Baraka  girls  were  not  excep- 
tions. We  did  a  great  deal  of  it.  If  occasion  did 
not  present  itself,  we  would  invent  some  sort  of  mischief 
on  puropse.  Not  with  any  evil  intent,  but  thoughtlessly, 
and  "for  fun."  It  was  necessary  for  us  to  laugh.  If  there 
was  nothing  to  laugh  at,  then  we  made  or  did  something 
in  order  to  laugh.  To  amuse  ourselves  we  would  start  up 
some  funny  derisive  song,  just  for  the  sake  of  teasing  the 
school-boys  across  the  fence  that  divided  their  yard  from 
ours.  They  dared  not  cross  that  fence  to  punish  us  for 
the  insults  we  heaped  on  them.  Or,  we  annoyed,  with 
our  derision,  inoffensive  passers-by  on  the  public  road 
that  adjoined  part  of  our  premises.  We  were  safe  be- 
hind our  fence;  and  they  respected  our  missionaries  too 
much  to  invade  those  premises,  to  give  us  the  whipping 
we  deserved. 

It  was  our  fun  to  mimic  the  ungraceful  step  or  halting 
speech  of  some  slave  men  or  woman;  as  they  did  not 
speak  our  Mpongwe  language  correctly,  we  would  laugh 
and   jeer  at  their  mistakes.     When  the  slave  men  with 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  97 

their  women  or  children  came  each  Monday  from  their 
plantations  with  food  to  sell  to  the  Mission,  we  would 
always  gather  around  them  and  stare  at  them  closely, 
to  see  if  we  could  find  anything  in  their  personal  appear- 
ance at  which  to  laugh ;  or  we  would  listen  to  their  harsh 
bushmen-dialect,  and  deride  their  broken  Mpongwe 
speech.  At  these  their  mistakes,  we  would  break  into  a 
laugh.  Sometimes  it  annoyed  them  very  much  to  be 
laughed  at  to  their  very  faces.  Then  sometimes  some  of 
them  would  begin  to  get  vexed  and  to  "  saza"  (complain). 
But  we  always  tried  to  keep  out  of  the  difficulty  by  going 
off  a  few  steps  from  them,  saying,  "Now  they  are  begin- 
ning to  be  vexed,  it  is  better  not  to  be  too  near  them." 
And  individuals  of  our  company  would  begin  to  defend 
themselves,  saying,  "You  are  vexed  at  me?  Do  you 
think  that  you  are  the  one  at  whom  we  were  laughing?" 
They  would  reply,  "But  whom  then  are  you  laughing 
at?  Were  you  sent  here  to  the  Mission  to  act  as  fools? 
To  be  laughing  at  and  reviling  people?  Were  you  not 
sent  here  to  learn  to  have  a  good  head?  If  you  dare  to 
do  this  again  to  us,  we  will  tell  your  Mistress;  or  if  we 
know  your  parents,  we  will  tell  them  in  your  villages." 
Then,  being  a  little  alarmed,  we  each  would  begin,  "/  did 
not  begin  it."  or  "Not  me."  And  then  we  would  run 
away  to  a  safe  distance,  shouting  and  teasing  as  we  went, 
saying,  "  If  you  don't  want  to  be  teased,  who  told  you  to 
come  here?  Your  aguma  (cassava  rolls)  are  bad;  we 
won't  eat  any  of  the  food  you  bring  here  to  sell."  [This 
was  a  vain  threat ;  for,  though  it  was  true  that  the  cass- 
ava prepared  by  the  slaves  was  very  much  inferior  to 
that  carefully  and  cleanlily  made  by  free  women,  it  was 
on  that  same  inferior  plantation  cassava  that  the  school 


98  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

had  to  depend.  The  supply  from  free  sources  was  not 
ample  for  daily  need.] 

While  some  of  these  ignorant  people  were  much  an- 
noyed at  what  we  said,  others  did  not  seem  to  mind  it. 
They  only  called  their  children  aside  from  us  to  prevent 
conflict,  and  laughed  it  off.  We  would  notice  especially 
any  man  or  woman  who  had  on  their  body  always  the 
same  old  dirty  cloth;  and  we  would  revile  it,  saying, 
**  There  comes  that  same  old  cloth."  Our  company  of 
voices  would  begin,  "Mangi  sina!  (You  fellows!)  She 
has  come  back  again  with  the  same  cloth!"  Some- 
times we  would  ask  them,  "Have  you  no  other  cloth 
:at  all?  You  come  here  always  with  that  old  cloth." 
Sometimes  they  were  not  vexed,  and  would  quietly  reply 
"Yes!  child,  I  have  no  other." 

One  of  these  poor  people  who  got  the  most  teasing  from 
us  was  a  small  dried-up  little  old  woman  whose  name 
was  Akanda.  Her  face  had  a  constant  look  of  trouble, 
perhaps  caused  by  ill-health  or  poverty  or  ill-treatment. 
She  belonged  to  Ma  (Mrs.)  Bessy  Makei,  one  of  the  prom- 
inent church-members.  She  often  came  to  sell  her 
aguma;  but  frequently  the  missionary  was  busy  at 
something  else,  and  not  ready  to  buy.  Then  she  had  to 
wait.  While  waiting,  Akanda  would  be  standing  in  a 
ridiculous  attitude,  and  flies  would  be  tormenting  her 
head  and  feet.  As  these  annoyed  her  she  would  be  slap- 
ping them  off  with  the  end  of  her  cloth,  or  would  flourish 
a  bunch  of  leaves  in  her  hand  with  which  to  drive  them 
away.  While  she  was  doing  this,  her  poor  old  troubled 
face  would  look  so  doleful  the  children  would  gather 
around  her  and  begin  to  make  unnecessary  salutation 
of  repeated  "Mbolo,"  or  ask  her  foolish  questions.     In 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL,  99 

her  simplicity  she  would  answer  the  questions,  looking 
quite  pleased  as  if  we  were  really  friendly  to  her;  while 
at  the  same  time  some  were  giggling  and  mimicing  her 
flapping  of  the  flies.  The  children  would  stand  around 
her  till  she  was  through  with  the  selling  of  the  food  and 
until  she  turned  to  go  away,  and  then,  with  mock  solemn- 
ity, would  escort  her  to  the  gate,  imitating  her  walk,  and 
pretending  to  drive  away  flies  from  their  own  bodies. 
Then  when  she  was  outside  the  gate  they  would  turn  back, 
laughing  and  saying  to  her,  "When  are  you  coming 
again."  This,  from  a  playful  beginning,  went  on  till  it 
became  worse:  she  discovered  that  she  was  being  made 
an  object  of  ridicule;  then  she  refused  to  enter  the  yard, 
but  sent  in  her  aguma  to  be  sold  by  some  other  women 
for  her.  After  a  while  she  ceased  to  come  at  all.  Then 
the  children  took  notice  of  her  absence  and  wondered 
why  **Iya  (mother)  Akanda"  had  not  come.  So  they 
asked  of  the  other  women,  "Where  is  Akanda?"  and  were 
told,  "She  is  quite  sick."  Then  the  children  were  all 
really  very  sorry  for  having  ridiculed  her,  and  we  changed 
our  minds  about  the  way  we  should  treat  her.  So  that 
when  she  got  better,  and  came  again,  we  did  not  laugh 
at  or  jeer  her,  but  were  friendly  and  pitied  her.  But 
soon  she  got  worse  again;   and  she  died. 

This  was  a  lesson  to  us  against  teasing  the  sick  and 
aged  or  helpless.  But  we  still  kept  it  up  toward  able- 
bodied  men  and  women  who  continued  to  come  to  sell 
food.  The  two  girls  who  most  of  all  were  persistent  in 
this  laughing  and  joking  at  these  people  were  my  sister 
Njiwo  and  her  friend  Akera.  [These  two  girls  were 
daughters  of  two  of  the  most  prominent  families,  and 
were  very  pretty,  witty,  graceful,  bright  at  their  books. 


100  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

efficient  as  workers  in  work-time,  and  in  play-time,  over- 
flowing with  vivacious  pranks.  Akera  is  still  living  to- 
day; they  became  grandmothers,  good  Christians,  and 
active  members  of  the  church.] 

The  food-buying  was  mostly  on  Monday.  That  was 
also  the  very  time  when  we  were  doing  our  clothes- 
washing,  at  a  spot  which  happened  to  be  near  the  food- 
house.  So  we  saw  all  that  was  going  on,  and  we  could 
conveniently  do  our  ridiculing  without  at  all  leaving  or 
neglecting  our  work.  We  were  busy  with  the  washing 
at  one  end  of  the  house,  and  the  buying  and  selling  was 
going  on  at  the  other  end.  The  food-bearers,  on  entering 
the  yard,  had  to  pass  by  us,  on  their  way  to  the  food- 
house.  If  anything  outlandish  about  them  attracted 
our  attention,  they  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  our  re- 
marks. Occasionally  some  new  bearer,  who  had  not 
been  there  before,  and  was  not  acctistomed  to  the  locali- 
ties, would  see  us  standing  at  our  washing,  would  make 
a  mistake  and  think  that  that  was  the  place  for  buying, 
and  would  put  down  his  bundle  of  food  near  us.  Then 
sometimes  we  would  direct  them  by  telling  them,  *'  No,  not 
here!     Go  around  to  the  other  end  of  the  house." 

But  one  day  it  happened  that  a  man  came  with  a  big 
load  of  aguma.  As  he  was  a  stranger,  he  began  to  ask  us, 
*'I  want  to  sell  aguma.  Is  this  the  place?"  Some 
said,  "No,  go  around."  Others  interrupted,  "Not  so! 
this  is  the  place.  Stay  here."  So  one  of  those  two 
girls,  Njiwo  [with  an  English  name,  Hattie]  went  near  to 
the  man  and  said,  "Don't  listen  to  their  talk.  Listen 
to  me.  I'll  show  you  the  way."  As  the  man  was  near 
to  the  steps  which  led  up  to  the  bath-room  of  the  Mistress 
and  thence  to  her  bed-room,  she  had  suddenly  made  up 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  101 

her  mind  to  cause  him  to  go  up  there,  so  that  we  might 
have  a  laugh  when  he  should  be  seen  and  driven  out  by 
the  indignant  Mistress.  She  told  him,  "You  just  go  up 
there.  The  white  person  is  there;  and  you  sell  your 
aguma  to  her."  The  poor  man  believed  her,  and 
obeyed  her  directions.  He  went  hesitatingly,  as  if  he 
had  no  right  to  ascend  the  stairs.  She  kept  near  him  as 
he  went,  he  inquiring  step  by  step,  "Here?  here?" 
"Yes;  go  on  up."  Some  of  the  others  began  to  be 
alarmed  at  the  audacity  of  the  joke,  and  protested, 
"E!  E!";  because  it  was  against  the  rules  for  any 
stranger  to  go  to  that  part  of  the  house;  and  they 
knew  the  Mistress  would  be  very  much  displeased  to 
find  this  man  in  her  bed-room.  Some  began  to  say  to 
the  man,  "No,  don't  go  up  there.  You  will  bring  anger 
on  yourself."  The  man  heard  this,  and  turned  and  in 
his  broken  Mpongwe,  asked,  "Is  it  orunda  (prohibited) 
for  me  to  go  up  here?"  His  guide  said,  "No!  it  is  not 
orunda.  Don't  listen  to  their  talk.  You  go  up.  Just 
go  in  that  door  with  your  aguma.  Then  the  white  per- 
son will  see  it  and  buy  it."  By  this  time  he  was  near  the 
top  of  the  steps.  But  the  Mistress  had  heard  the  noise 
of  the  discussion  from  the  dining-room;  had  come 
thence  through  the  bed-room,  and  when  she  got  to  the 
bath-room,  she  saw  this  man  just  at  the  top  of  the  steps. 
She  was  very  much  displeased,  and  ordered  him  down. 
"This  is  not  the  place  at  which  to  sell  food,"  and  she 
asked,  "Who  told  him  to  go  up?"  But  no  one  informed 
her;  onl}^  some  said,  "Aye  me"  (himself).  The  man 
was  told  the  right  place  to  which  to  go;  and  he  went 
around  to  the  other  end  of  the  house.  And  the  Mistress 
went  back  to  the  dining-room.     Then  the  children  (talk- 


102  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

ing  in  low  voices)  all  had  a  good  laugh  about  that  man. 
This  was  an  affair  that  was  not  forgotten  by  us  for  a  long 
while;  it  was  a  great  stock  for  fun  during  many  Mondays. 
Another  day,  also  a  Monday,  another  man  came  with  fifty 
aguma.  We  school  children  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
food-buying,  it  being  bought  for  us.  But  that  day  some 
of  them  were  hungry  and  offered  to  buy  a  few  of  the 
aguma  for  themselves,  the  while  the  missionary  was  occu- 
pied at  his  table.  Each  of  those  two  practical  jokers 
took  five.  [The  full  regular  price  for  five  aguma  was 
ten  cents.]  One  of  these  girls  gave  him  a  cinque-sous 
[a  French  coin  equal  to  about  five  cents]  only  half  price 
of  the  five  aguma ;  the  other  girl  had  a  small  damaged 
coin  of  unknown  value,  but  which  was  probably  uncur- 
rent  and  therefore  worthless.  The  man  looked  at  it 
doubtfully.  He  was  not  accustomed  to  coins;  he  was 
used  to  taking  goods  in  barter.  He  asked,  "Is  it  good 
money?"  They  said,  "Yes."  So  he  left  the  ten 
aguma,  took  the  two  coins,  and  went  away,  going  down 
the  streets  to  sell  his  remaining  forty  rolls.  But  when 
he  went  into  the  villages,  and  tried  to  exchange  the  two 
coins,  he  found  he  had  been  cheated.  Then  happened 
what  most  of  us  expected :  for,  soon  we  saw  him  coming 
running  up  the  road,  quite  excited. 

While  he  had  been  down  in  the  villages,  the  girls  had 
begun  to  open  one  of  the  cassava-rolls  and  to  eat  of  it. 
So  when  he  came  he  said,  "Now  come!  hurr}^  I  want 
my  aguma  back,  or  more  money.  This  one  piece  is  not 
money.  All  that  you  gave  me  is  only  this  cinque-sous." 
So  Akera,  who  had  given  him  the  worthless  coin,  began 
to  pretend  to  be  vexed,  as  if  the  man  himself  had  made 
a  mistake.     Her  confidante  and  others  were  laughing, 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  103 

telling  the  man,  "Is  that  the  way  you  do?  You  are  not 
telling  the  truth.  We  gave  you  the  money  all  right. 
Perhaps  you  yourself  made  the  mistake  while  down  in  the 
villages."  But  the  man  was  positive,  "No,  No!  this  is 
the  very  money  you  gave  me.  Bring  the  rest  of  the 
money  due,  fifteen  cents,  or  hand  back  my  aguma."  He 
was  very  much  excited.  Akera  had  to  take  back  her 
worthless  coin  and  return  the  five  aguma.  The  two  girls 
hurried  to  try  to  settle  the  affair  before  the  Mistress 
should  know  anything  about  it,  lest  they  should  be 
blamed.  So,  five  aguma  were  returned;  as  to  the  other 
five,  one  of  which  had  been  cut  into,  they  induced  him 
to  be  satisfied  with  the  four  and  a  half  which  were  also 
returned;    and  he  went  away  quietly. 

Another  day,  another  man  came  with  bottles  of  palm- 
oil  to  sell,  and  he  asked  for  rum  in  exchange.  Some  of 
the  children  began  to  laugh  at  him,  "We  do  not  keep 
rum  at  the  Mission.  Go  to  the  Trading-houses."  But 
one  of  those  two  girls,  Akera  said,  "You  all  forget  the 
nice  rum  we  have  out  there  in  that  big  cask."  (pointing 
to  our  water-barrel).  She  took  from  the  man  two  bot- 
tles of  palm-oil;  and  with  two  other  empty  bottles, 
went  to  fill  them  with  the  "nice  new  kind  of  rum,"  as 
she  called  it.  She  filled  the  two  bottles  with  the  water, 
and  tasted  a  little  of  it  in  his  sight,  so  that  he  would  be- 
lieve it  was  real  rum,  and  asked  him  also  to  taste  this 
"Odorless  rum"  as  she  called  it,  to  prove  that  it  was 
good,  and  to  see  whether  he  was  pleased  with  it,  and 
satisfied  with  the  price.  He  tasted  it,  and  hesitatingly 
admitted  that  it  was  "good."  [He  actually  went  off 
with  the  two  bottles  of  (supposed)  rum,  believing  it  to 
be  a  new  brand  he  had  not  before  met  with.]     As  soon 


104  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

as  he  was  outside  the  gate,  Akera,  knowing  that  the 
man  would  be  back  again  as  soon  as  the  deception  was 
discovered,  went  to  work  quickly  with  another  empty 
bottle  and  began  to  pour  into  it  half  of  the  contents  of 
one  of  the  palm-oil  bottles,  and  hid  it.  Then  she  filled 
with  water  the  empty  space  in  the  palm-oil  bottle,  and 
put  it  alongside  the  other  full  one,  and  sat  waiting,  ex- 
pecting the  man's  return.  Soon  we  saw  him  coming 
up  again.  He  was  not  excited  nor  hasting  (as  that  other 
man  about  the  coins).  He  was  rather  quiet.  One  of 
his  two  bottles  of  **rum"  was  half  empty.  He  said, 
"I  have  come  to  bring  back  the  rum.  I  don't  like  it." 
"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  "It  looks  too  much  like 
water."  "But  did  we  not  both  taste  of  it?  And  I 
told  you  it  was  a  new  kind,  and  without  odor.  And 
you  said  you  liked  it."  "Yes,  but  I  don't  like  it  now. 
I  want  my  oil."  "But  where  is  the  rum?  -Have  you 
drunk  part  of  it?"  The  man  produced  from  his  travel- 
ing-bag the  two  bottles  of  "rum,"  one  of  them  only  half 
full.  Akera  refused  to  accept  that  half  empty  one, 
claiming  back  from  him  all  her  "nice  fine  rum."  She 
says,  "You  have  drimk  part  of  my  rum;  you  must  give 
me  part  of  your  oil."  But  he  refused,  saying,  "Zele" 
(not  so).  He  put  down  before  her  the  two  bottles  of 
water,  and  she  set  before  him  his  two  bottles  of  oil,  say- 
ing, "I  won't  buy  from  you  again.  You  make  too 
much  trouble."  As  the  oil  bottles  were  of  dark  glass, 
the  man  did  not  perceive  that  one  of  them  was  only  a 
mixture  of  oil  and  water.  So  he  took  his  two  bottles 
and  went  off,  apparently  satisfied.  As  his  back  was 
turned,  Akera  faced  toward  him  and  said  in  a  low  voice, 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  105 

"You'll  see  the  trick  I  have  played  on  you."     Then  all 
the  girls  began  a  hearty  laugh. 

The  man  went  off  to  his  plantation.  If  he  discovered 
the  mixture  of  oil  and  water  in  that  bottle,  he  did  not 
return  to  make  ozaza  (complaint)   about  it. 


106  tales  out  of  school. 

Tale,  No.  13. 
"Bird's  Claws;"  the   Black  Sheep  of  the  Flock. 

THIS  story  is  about  a  girl  who  had  been  given  the 
name  of  "Jane  Preston"  after  Mrs.  Preston, 
one  of  our  most  amiable  missionaries. 

School  children  always  have  their  own  plays  and  man- 
ners and  special  friends.  Even  the  missionaries  had 
their  special  favorites  among  the  girls.  There  were 
others  they  did  not  care  much  about.  Some  of  the  girls 
were  weak,  and  others  strong-hearted;  there  were  dif- 
ferences among  them  all.  Some  were  friendless  and 
had  few  relatives;  some  had  no  older  sisters  to  defend 
and  fight  for  them  in  time  of  trouble.  So,  most  of  the 
time  the  strong  ones  took  advantage  of  the  weak  ones. 
Sometimes  they  would  take  a  chance  to  tease  them  and 
try  to  make  them  cry.  If  the  weak  girl  got  tired  of 
being  treated  thus,  perhaps  she  would  resent  it,  and 
would  begin  to  be  saucy.  Then  the  strong  ones  would 
punish  her  for  that. 

There  was  one  girl,  named  Jane_ Preston  who  belonged 
to  Bakele  people  [plural  of  Akele,  the  name  of  an  inferior 
tribe].  She  was  the  only  Akele  in  the  yard.  So,  most 
of  the  time,  she  was  the  one  to  be  tormented.  Most  of 
the  school  troubles  came  to  her.  She  was  not  very 
strong-hearted,  but  she  had  a  strong  body,  fit  for  fight- 
ing. She  herself  was  up  to  all  sorts  of  mischief.  Some- 
times the  big  girls  would  make  her  stand  up  and  revile 
herself  and  her  own  people.  They  would  bid  her  stand 
and  improvise  a  little  song.  The  song  was  mostly  to 
praise  their  Gaboon   (Mpongwe)   people,   and  to  deride 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  107 

her  own  tribe.  They  would  tell  her  how  to  sing  and 
what  to  say,  and  she  was  compelled  to  repeat  what  they 
told  her.     The  chorus  of  the  song  was,  thus: — 

"The  Mpongwe  are  very  sweet  (kango) 
Kan  go!  uyamba  (perfume)!  kango! 

The  Bakele  are — Phew!   Phew!   Phew! 
The  bad  smells!" 

She  used  to  try  to  steal  all  she  could  come  across — 
beads,  food,  and  everything.  She  would  eat  anything, 
even  things  that  were  not  nice  to  eat.  One  day  she 
was  seen  in  Ma  Bushnell's  kitchen  trying  to  get  some- 
thing out  of  the  fire.  When  asked,  "What's  that? 
What  are  you  doing?  she  replied,  "I  am  roasting  some- 
thing." We  asked,  "What  are  you  roasting?"  but  she 
made  no  reply.  On  our  coming  to  find  out,  we  saw  that 
she  was  roasting  legs  taken  from  a  bird  whose  body 
the  cat  had  eaten  the  night  before,  and  had  left  the  legs 
as  worthless.  But  Jane  was  going  to  roast  them  in  the 
fire,  and  the  fire  dried  up  the  skin  on  the  bones  of  the 
legs,  and  had  left  nothing  to  be  eaten.  Nevertheless 
she  tried  all  her  best  to  get  at  the  charred  remains.  So, 
we  all  had  a  good  laugh,  and  used  to  tease  her  about  it, 
and  called  her  a  nick-name,  "Akaka  m'  inyani"  (Bird's 
Claws).  Then,  too,  that  very  morning,  she  had  been 
stealing.  It  was  the  custom,  in  our  setting  the  table 
of  the  missionaries,  that  whatever  food  (pieces  of  plan- 
tain, or  meat,  or  anything  else)  was  left  by  them,  was 
allowed  for  the  two  girls  who  waited  at  table.  They 
were  permitted  to  eat  it  themselves,  or  share  it  with 
others,  or  do  as  they  pleased  with  it.     So  this  day,  after 


108  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

the  two  "big"  waiter  girls  had  divided  this  little  food 
between  their  two  selves,  one  of  them  just  stepped  out 
doors  a  little  while.  When  she  came  in  again,  her  plan- 
tains were  missing.  She  searched  for  them,  but  could 
not  find  them.  So  she  said,  "As  it  is  not  time  for  the 
other  girls  to  be  eating,  I  will  find  out  who  has  those 
plantains.  I  will  make  all  the  younger  girls  vomit,  then 
I  will  know  who  has  been  eating  my  plantains." 

So  all  the  younger  girls  were  called  and  ordered  to 
drink  a  large  quantity  of  tepid  water,  and  then  thrust 
their  fingers  down  their  throat  to  make  them  gag.  This 
very  girl,  Jane,  seemed  glad  of  the  order  and  said, 
"Yes!  yes!  let  us  all  vomit,  and  see  who  stole  plantains." 
This  was  because,  though  she  had  really  stolen  the 
plantains,  she  had  not  yet  eaten  them.  So  she  knew 
her  guilt  could  not  be  proved  at  that  time.  All  of  those 
girls  vomited,  but  none  ejected  any  plantain.  So  Jane 
Preston  said,  "Who  is  it  that  has  stolen  plantains?  I 
think  she  must  have  thrown  them  away  in  fear."  Thus 
she  herself  made  the  big  girls  suspect  that  herself  was 
the  thief;  and  soon  it  was  proved  that  she  had  hidden 
the  plantain  under  a  plate  in  the  pantry,  intending  to 
get  it  as  soon  as  the  expected  ozaza  (investigation) 
should  be  over.  So  the  owner  of  the  plantain  took  it, 
and  this  Akele  girl  did  not  get  any.  Many  times  she 
got  into  trouble  and  had  punishment  for  stealing;  but 
she  would  not  leave  it  off.  Even  after  she  was  married 
and  had  borne  children,  she  would  persist  in  stealing 
from  the  other  women's  gardens. 


tales  out  of  school.  109 

Tale,    No.    14. 
EsoNGE    Climbs    Out    of    the    Window. 

[Esonge  and  her  young  husband  Mayeye,  and  Bataka,  the 
wife  of  Uduma,  were  all  of  them  members  of  the  adjacent  Benga 
tribe. 

These  two  young  men  came  to  Baraka  school  to  join  the  Ad- 
vanced class,  some  of  whom  were  studying  as  candidates  for  the 
Ministry,  The  young  wives  were,  in  the  mean  while,  to  attend 
the  Girls'  school,  partly  for  education,  and  partly  to  occupy  their 
time.  Esonge  was  younger  and  more  of  a  girl  than  Bataka,  who 
was  very  quiet  and  sensible.] 

ESONGE  was  full  of  mischief  and  up  to  all  sorts  of 
pranks.  Sometimes  the  girls  made  up  their 
minds  deliberately  to  be  naughty;  sometimes,  for 

revenge  on  the  teacher,  a  Miss  X ,  who  was  almost 

the  only  missionary  lady  they  ever  treated  in  that  way; 
for  they  did  not  like  her. 

Sometimes  it  was  simply  for  the  sake  of  mischief, 
without  any  evil  thought. 

So,  whenever  Esonge  happened  to  make  up  her  mind 
to  take  a  turn,  we  knew  it  at  once  by  her  face  when  she 
entered  the  school-house  door.  She  would  come  in  late 
and  begin  to  give  excuses.  Then  as  we  all  sat  down, 
she  would  rise  up,  or  go  out  on  the  veranda  to  spit,  or 
would  cross  the  school-room,  or  make  strange  faces  and 
cause  the  other  girls  to  laugh,  just  to  torment  the  teacher. 
Soon  after  she  had  come  in  she  would  begin  to  ask  to  go 
out  for  a  drink  of  water,  or  other  excuse.  Then,  soon 
after  she  had  returned,  she  will  again  ask  to  go  out  for 
something  else.  If  she  was  refused,  she  would  pretend 
to  be  sulky,  and  would  say  she  would  go  out  any  how. 


110  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

So,  when  the  third  time  she  asked  to  go  out,  the  teacher 
refused.  Then  she  started  to  go  toward  the  door;  but 
the  teacher  locked  the  door,  and  put  the  key  in  her 
pocket.  Then  Esonge  said,  "You  say  I  won't  go  out? 
I  say  I  will.  You  have  locked  the  door;  but  how  is  it 
about  the  windows?"  As  the  windows  were  long  and 
wide,  they  had  bars  fastened  across  from  the  bottom 
half  way  up,  so  as  to  prevent  the  pupils  falling  out. 
Esonge  began  to  climb  up  the  bars.  Then  the  teacher 
came  and  caught  her  by  the  skirt  of  her  dress,  in  order 
to  pull  her  down.  When  Esonge  saw  that  it  would 
take  some  time  to  get  out,  the  while  the  teacher  was 
holding  her  dress,  she  jumped  down  and  said,  "We'll 
see,  to-day!  "  So  she  began  to  arrange  herself,  as  the 
school  girls  did  when  getting  ready  for  a  fight,  i.  e.,  to 
gather  up  all  her  skirts,  twist  them  in  one  roll  between  her 
legs,  draw  up  the  ends  behind  and  tuck  them  into  the 
belt  around  her  waist,  and  then  fasten  them  there  with 
her  turban  handkerchief  as  a  girdle.  Then  she  started 
for  the  window  again.  All  that  while  the  teacher  had 
stood  by  expecting  to  be  fought;  and  half  of  the  school 
were  on  their  feet  excitedly  waiting  for  the  scene  of  a 
fight  between  teacher  and  pupil.  So  Esonge  says  to  the 
teacher,  "Now,  I'm  going  out.  Come  and  prevent  me;" 
for  she  knew  now  her  dress  would  not  hinder  her,  her 
legs  being  bared.  The  teacher  tried  to  prevent  her,  by 
puUing  at  her  legs  as  she  cHmbed.  At  this,  Esonge  would 
give  a  kick,  and  the  teacher's  hands  are  flung  off.  When 
the  teacher  saw  that  Esonge  had  only  two  bars  left  to 
be  climbed,  she  began  to  call  on  the  larger  girls  for  help 
to  pull  her  down.  She  also  said,  "One  of  you  must  go 
to  the  other  house  to  call  Mrs.  Bushnell."     But  the  girls 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  Ill 

said,  *'We  do  not  wish  to  go.  And  you've  locked  the 
door,  and  you  have  the  key."  Those  few  who  had  re- 
sponded to  the  call  for  help  to  pull  Esonge  down  really 
aided  her  by  pushing  her  up,  the  while  they  were  pre- 
tending to  pull  her  down.  All  the  while  that  the  teacher 
was  saying,  "Now,  help!  help!"  as  she  herself  was 
pulling,  the  others  were  hindering  by  pushing.  So, 
Esonge  having  been  helped,  was  finally  partly  outside 
of  the  window,  there  remaining  yet  one  leg  inside.  Then 
we  thought:  *'Now  Esonge  is  out.  She  has  gained  the 
victory."  But,  instead  of  her  drawing  out  that  leg  and 
completing  her  victory,  we  saw  her  apparently  turning 
back,  and  that  she  was  stationary.  Then  she  said  to 
those  who  had  been  helping  her,  "You!  first  leave  me, 
for  a  minute."  We  asked,  "Why?  What's  the  matter? 
Why  don't  you  go  out?"  She  said,  "Wait  a  while. 
There's  the  other  one:  I  see  her  sister."  [Meaning  the 
teacher's  missionary  "sister"  Mrs.  Bushnell.]  The 
noise  of  the  riotous  school  had  become  so  great  that  Mrs. 
Bushnell  had  heard  it  over  at  the  dwelling-house,  and 
had  come  out  on  the  veranda  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 
So  Esonge  jumped  back  and  got  down  inside  the  room 
again.      Mrs.    Bushnell   came   over  to   know  what   was 

going  on.     Miss  X told  her  all  about  it.     But,  as 

Esonge  was  a  married  girl,  and  was  considered  as  a 
"woman,"  and  not  as  an  ordinary  pupil,  she  was  not 
whipped,  but  was  only  severely  rebuked.  At  this  she 
pretended  that  she  was  very  much  displeased,  the  while 


112  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

she  knew  she  was  in  the  wrong.  So,  in  her  pretended  dis- 
pleasure, she  said  she  would  leave  and  not  come  into 
school  any  more,  but  would  remain  in  her  husband's 
house,  and  do  her  own  works. 

But  this  did  not  last  very  long.  She  could  not  endure 
being  alone;  and  the  second  week  afterward  she  came 
again  to  school.  We  girls  were  all  very  glad  to  welcome 
her  back,  beacuse  she  was  one  of  the  chief  ones  for 
"urogo"  (mischief)  and  fun  and  play.  Sometimes  she 
came  to  lessons,  and  sometimes  she  stayed  away,  just 
as  she  pleased.  We  all  liked  her  very  much  for  her  play 
and  jokes.  She  stayed  with  us  till  she  had  to  return  to 
her  home  on  Corisco;  for  she  was  about  to  become  a 
mother,  and  we  all  missed  her  very  much.  That  baby  is 
now  a  young  man,  working  as  a  carpenter. 


tales  out  of  school.  113 

Tale,  No.  15. 
Agnes   Breaks   the   Switches. 

ALL  school  children  make  more  or  less  trouble  at 
^  times.  But  the  two  who  were  always  the  worst 
were  Agnes,  and  Amelia,  a  daughter  of  a  rich 
head- tradesman :  and  the  end  of  their  difficulties  with 
their  teacher  was  always  that  Ma  Bushnell  was  called 
in.  She,  though  slender  in  body,  was  strong  in  de- 
cision. All  the  girls  stood  in  awe  of  her,  most  of  them 
respected  her;  and  almost  all  loved  her.  She,  when 
called  in  to  settle  a  riot,  pushed  or  dragged  the  of- 
fenders to  the  dwelling  house,  to  finish  their  punish- 
ment there;  after  which  they  were  locked  up  for  the 
rest  of  the  day. 

Of  these  two  girls,  Agnes  was  the  worse,  both  to  the 
teacher  and  to  the  other  girls.  Almost  every  day,  she 
was  engaged  in  some  quarrel  or  fight  with  either  the 
teacher  or  some  fellow-pupil.  Sometimes  she  would 
deliberately  make  up  her  mind  to  be  troublesome  in 
school  to  the  teacher.  Then,  whenever  the  teacher 
attempted  to  punish  her,  she  would  seize  the  teacher 
and  begin  to  fight  with  her.  After  a  while,  the  teacher 
was  tired  of  this  fighting,  and  she  made  up  her  mind 
what  to  do.  She  decided  to  whip  her,  and  had  three 
long  switches  made,  which  would  extend  half  way  across 
the  room,  so  as  to  prevent  Agnes  coming  near  her  when 
she  should  attempt  to  strike  her. 

So,  whenever  Agnes  did  anything  that  was  naughty, 
the  teacher  would  reach  out  this  long  stick  and  strike 
her  with  it,  without  leaving  her  seat.     But  this  did  not 


114  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

last  long.  One  morning  Agnes  was  displeased  about 
her  food.  So,  she  made  up  her  mind  to  be  naughty 
during  school. 

As  soon  as  she  went  into  school,  she  showed  that  she 
was  not  willing  to  obey  orders,  or  even  to  recite  the 
Scripture  verses  for  the  day  from  the  tablet  hanging  on 
the  wall,  or  to  write  in  her  copy-book.  So,  the  long 
stick  was  extended  across  the  room  to  her.  Then  she 
began  to  scold  and  to  strike  her  fist  on  her  desk,  and  to 
say,  "By  the  name  of  my  father!  you  dare  to  do  that 
•again!"  The  teacher  said,  "Agnes,  Silence!"  Agnes 
impertinently  replied,  "Silence!  yourself."  So,  the 
teacher  said,  "Stop!  or  else  this  whip  will  come  on  you 
again.  You  are  showing  very  bad  example  to  the  other 
girls."  Agnes  said,  "You  too!"  This  made  the  teacher 
cross,  and  she  reached  out  with  the  whip.  But,  before 
the  whip  touched  Agnes's  shoulder,  she  was  up  on  the  top 
of  her  bench,  jumping  from  bench  to  bench  toward  the 
teacher  to  attack  her.  She  seized  the  teacher's  hands, 
snatched  away  the  whip,  broke  it  into  three  pieces,  and 
threw  them  out  of  the  window.  While  she  was  doing 
this,  the  teacher  went  to  the  corner  of  the  room,  and  got 
another  of  the  switches.  This  Agnes  took  hold  of,  broke, 
and  threw  out  of  the  window,  as  she  had  done  with  the 
first.  The  teacher  then  went  and  got  the  third  and  last ; 
which  Agnes  broke  in  the  same  way,  and  then  turned  to 
assault  the  teacher.  It  became  a  disgraceful  scuffle  of 
pushing  and  resisting  by  both  the  teacher  and  pupil. 
Just  before  this,  while  the  teacher  was  trying  to  use  the 
switches,  she  had  called  on  me  to  assist  her.  I  did  so,  by 
trying  to  hold  Agnes's  hands ;  but  the  latter  was  stronger 
than  I.     When  the  matter  grew  to  an  actual  fight,  and 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  115 

Agnes  was  scolding  and  insulting,  the  teacher  sent  word 
for  Ma  Bushnell  to  come  and  assist  her.     Mrs.  Bushnell 

came  from  the  dwelling-house.     Miss  X told  her  all 

that  had  happened.  Mrs.  Bushnell  had  to  send  for  her 
own  switches  from  the  other  house.  When  they  were 
brought,  she  gave  Agnes  a  thorough  beating.  Agnes 
attempted  to  resist  even  her;  but  Mrs.  Bushnell,  though 
physically  slight,  was  so  determined  and  fearless,  and 
her  will  so  strong,  that  no  one  could  successfully  resist 
her.  She  had  an  art  in  striking  to  know  where  to  hit 
on  spots  that  would  hurt  and  yet  not  make  a  permanant 
injury.  After  the  flogging,  Agnes  was  locked  up  all  day 
as  additional  punishment.  That  day  she  got  the  worst 
in  her  attempt  to  make  trouble,  for  her  hands  and  lips 
and  feet  were  bruised  and  cut.  This  contest  had  taken 
so  long  a  time,  and  the  rest  of  the  pupils  were  all  so 
excited,  and  every  thing  was  in  such  confusion  that,  it 
being  near  noon,  school  was  dismissed.  Agnes  married; 
lost  her  bold  manner;   and  died  many  years  ago. 


116  tales  out  of  school. 

Tale,  No.  16. 
Wasted   Privileges. 

EACH  missionary  lady  or  gentleman  had  their 
favorite  boy  or  girl,  the  choice  of  whom  de- 
pended mostly  on  the  child's  character;  but 
somewhat  also  on  the  social  position  of  the  child's 
family.  A  prominent  native  gentleman,  Sonie  John 
Harrington,  was  a  great  friend  to  the  missionaries.  He 
himself  had  been  taught  and  brought  up  in  the  Mis- 
sion. Though  his  wealth  and  trade  had  led  him 
away,  so  that  he  had  many  women  for  his  wives,  he 
was  interested  in  the  success  of  the  Mission  and 
helped  it  in  many  ways.  His  great  desire  was  to 
have  his  children  well  taught  and  well  brought  up. 
So  they  were  all  sent  to  the  school,  one  after  another, 
as  soon  as  at  all  able  to  learn  books.  Of  his  favorite 
wife,  his  first-born  and  favorite  daughter  was  named  in 
childhood  by  her  mother,  Fando,  and  subsequently, 
A-nye-ntyu-we.  But  her  father,  from  the  first,  had  called 
her  Jane.  Because  the  missionaries  found  "Anyentyu- 
we"  a  difficult  word  to  pronounce,  they  also  called  her 
Jane,  or  (to  distinguish  her  from  another  pupil  Jane 
Preston)  "Janie."  Of  all  the  Harrington  children,  she 
was  the  first  to  be  sent  to  school,  before  she  was  five  years 
of  age.  The  missionaries  liked  the  Harrington  children; 
and  gave  them  their  attention.  Jane  was  especially 
committed  to  Mrs.  Bushnell's  care,  who  took  her  as  her 
little  pet.  (It  was  she  who  gave  me  most  of  these  Tales.) 
A  few  years  after  this,  Mrs.  Bushnell  went  on  a  fur- 
lough to  the  United  States.     John  Harrington  asked  her 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  117 

to  take  Janie  with  her,  for  the  sake  of  the  benefit  of  a 
view  of  civiHzation  in  America.  It  was  the  custom  at 
that  time,  for  most  missionaries  on  furlough  to  bring 
with  them  some  child,  on  various  pleas  of  necessity  or 
pleasure.  The  effect  on  some  children  was  beneficial, 
if  they  were  already  possessed  of  noble  elements  of  char- 
acter;  if  not,  the  effect  was  disastrous.  Sonie  had  rightly 
judged  the  noble  character  of  his  daughter  Jane.  But 
Mrs.  Bushnell  thought  she  better  not  take  her.  She 
said  Janie  was  too  young  to  stand  winter  weather  in 
America;   she  should  wait  till  the  next  time. 

So  Mrs.  Bushnell  went  away;  and  the  School  was  left 
in  the  hands  of  Mrs.  Preston.  As  this  gentle  lady  suf- 
fered much  from  severe  headaches,  all  the  youngest 
children  were  sent  to  their  homes,  to  relieve  her.  And 
Rev.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Preston  were  in  charge  of  the  station. 
But  as,  unfortunately,  Mr.  Preston  and  John  Harring- 
ton were  not  on  friendly  terms,  little  Janie  was  tempor- 
arily removed  and  was  placed  in  the  care  of  **  Ma  Bessy," 
Mrs.  Bessy  Makei,  a  Bible-woman  in  employ  of  the 
mission  and  wife  of  a  Mpongwe  man  whose  house  was, 
by  special  permission,  erected  on  the  mission  premises. 
When  Mrs.  Bushnell  returned  two  years  later  from  her 
furlough,  Janie  and  all  the  other  smaller  children  came 
back  to  her.  Those  of  her  sisters  or  half-sisters  and 
brothers  or  half-brothers,  who  were  old  enough,  were 
sent  along  with  her;  including  her  own  sister  Njiwo 
("Hattie");  and  half-sister  Ngwanjanga  ("AUda"); 
brothers  NyiHno,  Ntyarere,  Antyuwa,  Renambi;  and 
later  on,  came  her  own  favorite  brother  Sonie;  and 
others  still  later.  These  children  all  tried  to  do  their 
best  in  order  to  win  credit  for  themselves  and  to  honor 


118  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

their  family  name.  Alida  had  a  good  head  to  learn 
books  rapidly;  but  she  was  sometimes  a  little  care- 
less and  neglectful  of  other  duties.  Mrs.  Bushnell 
tried  her  best  to  bring  her  on  in  fancy-work  of  neat 
sewing  and  other  pretty  things,  so  that  she  would  be 
equal  to  the  others. 

When  next  time  came  around  for  Mrs.  Bushnell  to 
have  a  furlough,  she  was  to  take  with  her  to  America 
an  infant  daughter  of  Mrs.  Menaul  (a  missionary  resid- 
ing on  Corisco  island)  and  she  needed  a  native  girl  to  go 
with  her  and  assist  her  with  the  child.  She  asked  John 
Harrington  to  let  her  have  Alida  to  go  with  her.  He 
said,  "No,  better  take  Jane,  not  Alida."  But  Mrs. 
Bushnell  observed,  that  of  the  two  girls,  the  years 
suited  better  of  Ahda's  age  between  youth  and  approach- 
ing womanhood.  So  he,  to  please  the  missionary,  but 
against  his  own  judgment,  yielded  to  her.  And  Alida' s 
clothes  were  made  ready,  and  she  went  with  Mrs.  Bush- 
nell to  the  United  States. 

While  they  were  still  in  America,  John  Harrington 
took  sick  and  died.  At  the  end  of  another  two  years, 
Mrs.  Bushnell  and  Alida  returned.  She  had  improved 
in  looks,  and  had  grown  to  be  quite  a  tall  girl.  Mrs. 
Bushnell  was  surprised  to  see  the  other  Harrington 
daughters  also  grown  up  to  be  large  girls.  While  in  the 
United  States,  Mrs.  Bushnell  had  taken  very  great  in- 
terest in  /dida,  and  much  attention  had  been  shown  to 
her  by  friends  of  Missions.  She  had  been  placed  in  a 
good  school;  money  and  sympathy  had  been  spent  on 
her.  She  had  professed  conversion;  united  with  the 
church  of  Rev.  Dr.  Booth  of  New  York  City,  and  in  her 
baptism   was   given    his   family   name.     Mrs.    Bushnell 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  119 

thought  that  all  this  would  have  improved  her,  and  that 
she  would  start  in  the  Baraka  school  again,  at  the  top 
of  every  thing.  By  her  having  been  to  a  civilized  coun- 
try, having  seen  many  new  things  and  good  examples, 
she  had  chances  beyond  the  rest  of  her  sisters.  So  Mrs. 
Bushnell  tried  earnestly  to  encourage  her,  and  keep  her 
on  in  the  high  place  at  which  she  was  started.  She 
kept  her  always  near  her  side. 

But  the  journey  to  America  had  not  benefited  Alida. 
All  these  privileges  seemed  as  if  they  were  nothing  to 
her.  She  began  to  go  down,  down;  and  she  drifted 
away  from  any  love  or  even  respect  for  Mrs.  Bushnell. 
She  began  by  being  intentionally  disobedient,  saucy  and 
very  careless  about  whatever  work  she  had  to  do.] 


When  a  few  of  the  girls  were  called  in  to  a  special 
class  to  be  taught  dress-making,  i.  e.,  to  cut  and  sew 
their  own  dresses,  Mrs.  Bushnell  would  teach  them  how 
to  begin  right  from  the  very  first  cut  of  the  scissors,  so 
as  to  have  every  thing  exact  and  of  proper  length  and 
size,  and  thus  not  waste  material  or  spoil  the  fit  of  the 
dress.  All  this  the  others  did;  they  obeyed,  and  tried 
their  best  to  follow.  Of  course  they  made  some  little 
mistakes;  but  only  through  misunderstanding,  and  not 
intentionally  or  neglectfully.  But  Alida  was  very  care- 
less, and  took  no  thought  against  wasting  cloth,  etc. 
She  would  go  recklessly  cutting  and  tearing,  without 
asking  for  directions.  Then  soon  she  would  pronounce 
herself,  "I've  finished!  ready  for  sewing!"  But 
presently,  after  starting  her  sewing,  she  would  find  her- 
self sticking  fast  in  some  difficulty, — breadths  differing 
in  length, — and  not  enough  material  to  change  them: 


120  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

and  the  garment  had  to  be  pieced  out.  Discovering  her 
difficulty,  she  would  say  in  a  loud  angry  voice,  "The 
breadths  are  not  even;  one  is  quite  short;  I  will  not  be 
able  to  get  a  hem  on  this!"  When  she  was  rebuked  for 
her  carelessness,  she  would  turn  around  and  put  the 
blame  on  Mrs.  Bushnell,  saying,  "But  who  gave  me  the 
measure?  Not  you?  So  the  mistake  is  yours,  not 
mine!"  Then  the  teacher  would  take  the  material  and 
the  measure,  and  show  her  where  it  was  that  she  started 
wrong.  The  rest  of  the  sewing  went  in  the  same  way ; 
for,  in  making  the  sleeves,  she  would  be  sure  to  have 
some  mistake  in  the  cutting.  In  their  sewing,  Mrs. 
Bushnell  tried  to  teach  the  girls  to  do  every  thing  very 
nicely,  hemming,  back-stitching,  felling  seams,  making 
neat  button-holes,  and  putting  on  buttons  in  a  straight 
line  or  regular  distances ;  to  run  stitches  of  even  lengths ; 
to  lay  the  gathers;  and  not  to  muss  up  the  material. 
These  things  all  the  girls  did  excepting  Alida.  She  was 
not  able  to  get  praise  for  neat  sewing;  all  her  work  was 
coarsely  done.  When  rebuked,  she  did  not  try  to  do 
better,  but  got  vexed,  and  would  have  an  altercation 
with  the  Mistress.  When  the  "big  girls,"  after  the 
smaller  ones  had  gone  to  bed,  as  usual,  spent  the  evening 
together  in  the  missionary  dining  room,  sewing,  reading 
or  studying,  Alida  would  spend  the  most  of  her  time  in 
hunting  something  to  eat,  though  it  was  against  the  rule 
to  eat  late  in  their  bed-room.  Sometimes  then  Mrs. 
Bushnell  would  go  to  look  at  her  pantry  food-safe,  and 
would  set  apart  one  or  two  dishes  which  she  did  not  care 
to  retain  for  herself,  and  say  to  the  girls,  "This  you 
may  have,  I  will  not  keep  it."  She  meant  that  they 
were  to  eat  it  next  morning.      As  soon  as  Mrs.  Bushnell 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  121 

left  the  dining-room,  Alida  would  go  and  open  the  safe, 
and  pull  out  one  or  both  of  the  dishes.  The  others 
would  say,  "Do  not  touch  the  safe!"  Then  she  says, 
"I  am  not  stealing.  The  Mistress  said  it  belongs  to  us 
girls."  And  she  would  begin  to  eat  whatever  it  was, 
rice,  or  pie,  or  pudding.  Soon  Mrs.  Bushnell  will  hear 
the  rattle  of  the  spoon  on  the  plate.  She  comes  and 
stands  at  the  door  to  see  who  is  eating;  and  finds  Alida 
at  the  food,  while  the  others  are  all  busy  at  their  occu- 
pations,— reading,  sewing,  learning  lessons,  cutting  out, 
or  mending.  When  Mrs.  Bushnell  saw  all  this,  she 
would  say  to  Alida,  "I  knew  it  would  be  you,  and  that 
the  others  would  be  properly  occupied."  Alida  replies, 
"I  was  not  stealing.  You  gave  it  to  us.  And  I'm  hungry. 
Why  do  you  wish  another  woman's  child  to  starve?" 

[It  happened  one  evening  that  Janie  was  busy  ironing 
till  after  7  o'clock.  She  had  not  eaten  her  supper;  and 
it  was  her  habit  not  to  eat  food  late,  if  she  failed  to  get 
it  at  the  proper  evening  hour.  So  she  had  not  eaten  at 
all,  and  she  had  set  aside  her  food,  keeping  it  for  the 
next  day.  Alida  said  she  felt  hungry;  that  she  had  not 
satisfied  her  appetite  at  supper.  So  Janie  told  her,  "As 
my  supper  is  laid  aside,  then  take  it,  if  you  wish  it  and 
you  feel  hungry."  This  was  just  before  their  bed  time. 
So  Alida  said  that,  as  she  would  not  have  time  to  eat  it 
outisde,  she  would  eat  it  in  her  room,  just  before  lying 
down.  Janie  warned  her  and  said  to  her,  "Where  will 
you  get  water  to  drink  or  to  wash  your  hands  with,  as 
you  will  have  none  in  the  room?"  She  said,  "I  have 
oranges,  I  will  drink  the  juice  for  water."  She  had  a 
lot  of  oranges  hid  behind  her  clothes  box;  (which  was 
also  against  Rule).     As  it  was  a  moonlight  night,   she 


122  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

sat  down  near  the  window  in  the  dormitory  with  her 
plate  of  food.  After  she  had  finished  eating,  she  pulled 
out  two  oranges  from  behind  the  box,  and  began  to 
peel  them.  Then,  as  the  odor  of  the  pungent  oil  in  the 
fresh  skins  went  through  the  thin  walls,  Mrs.  Bushnell 
perceived  it,  and  at  first  went  outside  on  the  rear  veranda, 
thinking  someone  was  eating  oranges  there.  She  saw 
no  one  there;  and  then  she  suspected  that  the  eating 
must  be  in  the  girls'  bed-room.  When  she  stood  out- 
side the  door  asking,  Alida  was  the  first  one  to  answer, 
"We  have  no  oranges  here.  Whom  did  you  see  eating 
oranges?"  While,  at  that  very  moment  she  was 
hastily  swallowing  the  orange,  so  as  to  have  it  out  of 
sight  before  Mrs.  Bushnell  should  come  in.  Mrs.  Bush- 
nell said  again,  "You  have  oranges  there,  I  smell  them." 
Alida  again  insisted,  "We  have  none."  Mrs.  Bushnell 
declared,  "I  know  you  have;  and  if  I  come  there,  I  will 
find  them!"  Alida  daringly  said,  "Come  and  have  a 
look,  if  you  will  find  any!"  She  forgot  Mrs.  Bushnell 
would  come  with  a  light;  and  then  the  hidden  oranges 
would  be  found.  All  the  other  girls  were  lying  awake 
in  their  beds,  listening  to  all  this,  the  while  that  Alida 
was  sitting  up,  eating  at  her  oranges,  and  talking  thus 
impertinently  back  to  Mrs.  Bushnell.  Mrs.  Bushnell 
went  to  the  dining-room,  took  a  lamp,  and  came  into  the 
bed-room  to  search  for  the  oranges.  As  soon  as  Alida 
saw  the  light  coming,  and  she  had  not  finished  her 
second  orange,  she  flung  it  into  a  corner.  But  Mrs. 
Bushnell  heard  and  followed  the  direction  of  the  sound; 
she  held  the  light  low,  and  searched  behind  Alida's  box, 
looking  steadily  at  her  face  w^hile  doing  this.  The  other 
girls  could  see  the  look  of  pain  and  grief  on  Mrs.  Bush- 
nell's  face.     Her   heart  was  hurt.     After  Mrs.  Bushnell 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  123 

had  gathered  all  the  oranges  in  her  apron,  she  turned 
around  to  rebuke  AHda,  "You  said  you  had  no  oranges! 
What  is  this?  Shame  on  you!"  Alida  sat  there,  her 
face  covered  with  shame;  but  looking  very  much  dis- 
pleased, and  having  very  little  to  say  for  herself.  She 
was  not  repentent,  and  would  have  liked  to  have  dis- 
puted; but  she  knew  she  was  guilty  and  could  not 
deny  it. 

After  Mrs.  Bushnell  had  gone  out,  the  other  girls, 
though  surprised  and  awed  at  Alida 's  audacity,  could 
not  help  laughing  at  the  strait  into  which  she  had  brought 
herself.] 

The  next  day  things  were  not  very  pleasant  between 
Alida  and  Mrs.  Bushnell. 

It  did  not  take  many  days  after  that,  that  she  got  into 
trouble  again;  and,  big  girl  as  she  was,  she  had  to  be 
given  a  severe  whipping.  She  got  into  trouble  so  often, 
that  Mrs.  Bushnell  turned  on  her  one  day,  saying,  "John 
Harrington  knew  best!  I  wish  I  had  not  taken  you  to 
America!  I  wish  I  had  yielded  to  his  preference!  I  think, 
as  he  was  your  father,  he  knew  your  characters  better 
than  I."  AHda  retorted  daringly,  "I  don't  care!  You 
took  me.  I  did  not  go  myself.  And  I'm  back  again. 
That  is  finished.  Am  I  not  to  do  as  I  please,  just  be- 
cause you  took  me  to  America?"  [To  be  "taken  to 
America"  was,  by  almost  every  school  boy  or  girl, 
considered  a  great  privilege.  Every  furloughed  mission- 
ary was  besiged  with  petitions  for  the  favor.  Apparently, 
Alida  resented  having  been  reminded  of  the  favor.]  Her 
falling  into  offenses  and  censure  became  more  and  more 
frequent ;  she  had  to  be  punished  so  often  that  it  became 
a  great  grief  to  Mrs.  Bushnell.  She  warned  her,  "I'm 
very  sorry  thinking  of  your  future.     From  what  I  see  of 


124  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

you  now,  if  this  continues,  you  will  not  make  a  good 
woman.  Things  will  go  very  badly  with  you:  and  your 
husband,  whoever  he  shall  be,  will  not  be  satisfied  with 
you.  You  will  be  punished  and  even  beaten  by  him." 
But  Alida  was  reckless,  and  said,  "You  are  not  my 
mother!  How  is  it  that  you  pronounce  a  curse  on  my 
life?"  Mrs.  Bushnell  often  repeated  her  warning;  and 
mentioned  also  three  other  girls,  who,  she  said,  would  also 
be  beaten  by  their  future  husbands:  and  others  still,  who, 
she  said,  would  never  be  beaten. 

As  the  large  girls  grew  up  to  be  young  women,  Alida 
was  the  last  of  their  company  to  be  degraded  by  a  whip- 
ping. The  others  were  considered  to  be  beyond  that. 
If  they  needed  punishment,  it  was  given  in  other  ways. 

[She  reached  young  womanhood  and  finished  her 
studies.  Mrs.  Bushnell,  hoping  still  to  influence  her, 
and  to  make  something  useful  of  her,  advanced  her  as 
assistant  teacher  of  the  small  children.  She  was  com- 
petent for  teaching  books,  but  she  took  no  interest  in 
her  pupils;  and  she  never  succeeded  in  any  neat  sewing- 
work.  She  was  married  to  a  most  promising  young  man. 
Her  prospect  was  brighter  than  of  any  of  the  rest  of  her 
sisters.  Her  outlook  with  him  was  very  fine.  But  she 
ruined  both  him  and  herself.     They  separated. 

She  is  still  living.  To  this  day  she  has  proved  that 
her  life  is  exactly  as  Mrs.  Bushnell  had  forewarned.  All 
of  whose  prophecies  about  her  and  the  other  girls, 
whether  for  good  or  evil,  have  since  then  proved  true. 
While  drifting  through  several  unfaithful  marriages, 
neglecting  all  church  services,  and  sinking  even  into  in- 
temperance, she  always  retained  her  audacity.  Just 
lately,  as  I  close  this  tale,  she  is  again  attending  church, 
and  professing  a  desire  to  return  from  her  wanderings.] 


tales  out  of  school.  125 

Tale,   No.   17. 
Fando  Runs  Away. 

[This  Tale  is  the  only  one  of  the  series  of  which  I  took  notes 
on  the  spot,  as  my  informant  narrated  it.  She  was  the  only  one 
of  the  three  former  school-girls,  who,  in  giving  me  their  reminis- 
cences, was  willing  that  I  should  reveal  her  name.] 

THIS  is  a  story  of  my  own  badness.  It  was  while 
Mrs.  Walker  was  in  charge;  and  I  was  about  fif- 
teen years  of  age. 

As  a  school-girl  I  was  generally  good.  But  I  liked 
fun,  and  I  was  often  mischievous.  But  I  did  not  allow 
my  fun  to  go  too  far.  Other  girls,  who  were  joined  in 
the  same  pranks,  would  forget  themselves,  and  would  go 
on  recklessly  with  the  affair  after  I  had  stopped  and  had 
asked  them  to  stop  too. 

When  investigation  came,  I  could  truthfully  say,  "It 
was  not  I."  Others  got  whipping  as  a  punishment  for 
their  offenses.  I  was  too  proud  to  allow  myself  to  be 
struck,  and  I  therefore  stopped  my  mischief  before  it  went 
so  far  as  to  deserve  whipping. 

It  was  a  rule  of  school  that,  after  going  to  bed,  we 
should  be  quiet.  But  the  rule  was  not  always  well 
obeyed;  partly  because  it  was  not  well  understood. 
What  was  "quiet?"  Not  to  play,  or  not  to  sing,  or  not 
to  talk,  or  not  even  to  whisper?  We  all  thought  we 
were  "quiet"  when  we  talked  only  in  an  undertone.  We 
told  fairy  tales  and  legends  and  "inkano"  [continued 
cumulative  native  stories,  like  "House  that  Jack  Built," 
or  the  "Arabian  Knights."] 

Some  inkano  had,  as  a  part  of  them,  a  song  which  we 
would  sing  in  a  low  voice.  That  far  was  considered  to 
be  "quiet,"  but,  when  the  nkano  was  finished,  and  all 


126  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

should  have  gone  to  sleep,  some  of  the  girls  would  forget 
themselves  and  play:  in  play,  they  talked  aloud:  the 
loud  talking  grew  to  a  laugh:  and  sometimes  it  went  on 
to  a  quarrel,  and  ended  in  a  fight.  But,  long  before  the 
talking  became  loud,  I  had  always  stopped.  I  valued 
my  good  name  too  much  to  be  struck,  and  so  I  tried  not 
to  deserve  punishment. 

When  the  noise  would  grow  so  great  as  that  our  Mis- 
tress could  hear  it,  she  or  a  teacher  would  come  to  the 
door  and  ask  for  silence.  If  she  was  not  promptly 
obeyed,  and  had  to  come  again,  she  would  enter  with 
whip  and  Hght,  and  punished  those  who  were  talking 
or  making  other  noise.  As  she  entered  the  dormitory, 
she  would  ask,  "Who  is  it  making  this  noise?"  It  was 
generally  some  of  the  worst  and  noisiest  who  would  re- 
ply, "We  all,"  so  that  the  innocent  might  be  punished 
with  their  guilty  selves.  Their  apparent  goodness  in 
making  confession  was  really  a  mean  desire  to  have 
others  suffer  with  them.  Then  I  would  say,  "No!  not 
I.  Who  was  heard  me  speak  since  we  stopped  our 
inkano?"  Then  our  Mistress  would  say  tome,  "If  you 
were  not  taking  part  in  it,  Janie,  tell  me  who  were." 
Sometimes  I  would  tell;  and  then  the  punishment  was 
given  only  to  the  noisy  one,  and  the  innocent  escaped. 

One  night  the  noise  became  so  bad  that,  when  Mrs. 
Walker  came  into  the  room,  she  did  not  stop  to  ask  who 
was  who,  but  began  at  once  to  strike  right  and  left  with 
her  hard  bamboo  whip.  Among  the  rest,  a  sharp  blow 
fell  on  my  bare  arm;  and  in  pain  and  indignation  at  the 
degradation,  I  cried  out,  "Boo-o-o!  I  was  not  one  of 
them.  Why  did  you  strike  me?  You  shall  see  to-mor- 
row that  I  will  not  work;7for  I  shall  run  away!  " 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  127 

Next  morning,  I  did  not  touch  my  work  of  washing 
the  breakfast  plates;  and  I  left  the  house.  I  knew  the 
place  where  Ma  Walker  kept  the  whip  hidden.  I  went 
and  took  it,  that  it  should  not  strike  me  again.  With 
it  in  my  hand,  I  started  slowly  down  the  road  to  the  vil- 
lages, intending  to  throw  it  away  in  the  high  grass. 

As  I  went  out,  I  said  to  my  friend  Sarah  Dorsey,  "I 
am  running  away."  She  laughed,  and  thought  I  was 
only  joking.  For,  she  and  everybody  knew  that  "the 
Harrington  girls"  (my  younger  sister  Hattie  and  I)  did 
not  dare  to  run  away;  our  father  Sonie  John  Harring- 
ton had  laid  on  us  a  law  that  he  would  punish  us  severely 
if  we  did.  I  too  knew  I  was  saying  it  only  as  a  threat, 
for  I  knew  my  father  would  punish  me  and  send  me  back, 
if  I  disobeyed  him.  So,  instead  of  fleeing  rapidly,  I 
went  slowly,  very  slowly,  and  swinging  the  whip  from 
side  to  side.  My  companions,  the  larger  girls,  stood 
laughing  on  the  veranda.  It  was  strange  to  them;  for 
they  had  never  seen  me  misbehave,  or  do  anything  of 
the  kind.  They  called  after  me  to  come  back;  but  I 
answered,  "No!  I'm  going."  I  heard  them  call  out  to 
Ma  Walker,  "Fando  has  run  away!  Shall  we  go  after 
her  and  catch  her?  But  Ma  Walker  said,  "No!  As  she 
has  gone  because  of  me,  myself  will  go  after  her  and 
catch  her."  I  heard  the  gate  slam;  and  looking  behind 
I  saw  Ma  Walker  coming,  and  the  girls  laughing.  I 
hastened  my  steps.  Then  Mrs.  Walker  quickened  hers. 
But  she  was  not  strong  and  could  not  run,  because  of 
her  weak  back.  She  called  out  to  me,  "Janie!  wait  for 
me!"  I  would  turn  around  and  say,  "Ande?  (What 
for?)  "     "But  wait!  "  I  would  pretend  anger,  "  Ugh!  no!  " 


128  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

Then  she  would  command,  "  Janie!  "  and  I  would  laugh, 
and  go  on  walking. 

She  followed,  but  did  not  run;  took  a  few  steps, 
stopped,  shook  out  her  dress;  and  would  continue  to  call, 
"Wait  for  me!  Where  are  you  going?  What  are  you 
going  for?"  "I'm  going  to  town!  Why  did  you  strike 
me  last  night?"  It  was  so  funny!  She  could  not  over- 
take me,  though  I  did  not  run.  I  was  amused  to  see  her 
standing,  and  yet  expecting  to  catch  me.  I  had  to 
laugh.  I  did  not  really  intend  to  go  to  town.  I  stopped 
and  waited  for  her.  But  before  she  reached  me,  I  threw 
the  whip  away  where  she  could  not  get  it. 

Ma  Walker  came  near  me,  and  asked,  "What  are  you 
going  away  for?"  "Because  you  struck  me  last  night; 
and  it  was  not  I  who  made  the  noise."  I  showed  her 
the  mark  on  my  arm,  where  it  still  hurt  me.  She  said, 
"As  you  ran  from  me,  I  came  myself  to  catch  you." 

So,  I  turned  back  with  her,  and  we  came  up  the  path 
together.  I  pretending  to  be  angry,  and  she  looking 
as  if  she  had  accomplished  something  great.  She  told 
me  to  go  into  the  house,  sit  down,  and  be  a  good  girl. 

My  companions  were  still  standing  on  the  veranda 
laughing  at  Ma  Walker's  slow  pursuit  of  me,  and  her 
strange  sort  of  "capture."  When  I  saw  them  laughing, 
I  could  no  longer  keep  up  the  pretense  of  anger,  and  I 
joined  with  them.  They  asked  me  whether  I  had  really 
meant  flight;  for,  they  knew  of  my  father's  strict  law. 
I  said,  "Yes;  because  my  father  is  not  at  home;  he  is 
on  a  journey  up  the  river.  And  no  one  else  in  town 
would  dare  touch  me.."  Then  I  asked  them  in  joke 
whether  they  had  noticed  how  fast  Ma  Walker  had  "run ; " 
and  how  quickly  she  had  "caught"  me.     Then  I  imi- 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  129 

tated  her  few  steps  and  a  stop,  and  again  a  few  steps  and 
a  stop,  and  her  call  for  me  to  "wait "  till  she  could  "catch  '* 
me.  We  all  had  a  hearty  laugh  about  it.  Nothing  was 
said  or  done  about  my  having  neglected  my  work,  or 
having  left  the  yard  without  permission;  or  having 
thrown  away  the  whip. 

But  Ma  Walker  seemed  to  think  that  really  she  had 
caught  me  and  had  brought  me  back. 


130  tales  out  of  school. 

Tale,   No.   18. 
Njiwo    Bites    the    Teacher. 

THE  position  of  the  young  woman,  Fando,  in  the 
Baraka  household,  as  intimated  in  Tales  No.  16 
and  No.  17  was  an  exceptional  one.  There  were 
•other  pupils,  waifs,  or  poor,  who  had  no  other  home  but 
the  Mission.  That  they  should  give  their  labor  as  nominal 
"sons"  and  "daughters"  (though  actual  servants)  un- 
paid beyond  their  food  and  clothing,  was  natural.  But 
they  generally  rendered  such  aid  unwillingly,  and  were 
apt  to  be  looked  down  upon  by  the  other  children  as 
■"slaves."  But  she  was  a  rich  man's  daughter,  not  in 
need  of  a  home  or  of  support  by  the  Mission.  Her 
father,  in  friendship  for  Rev.  Dr.  Bushnell,  and  in  desire 
that  his  daughter  should  grow  up  clear  of  the  some- 
what heathen  influences  of  his  village,  had  given  her,  a 
child  of  only  four  years  of  age,  to  Mrs.  Bushnell  to  keep 
and  train,  until  she  should  finally  return  to  him  for 
(every  African  woman's  destiny)  marriage.  The  school 
had  not  to  her,  the  view-point  of  almost  all  the  other 
girls,  i.  e.,  that  of  a  convent,  from  which  they  hoped  some 
day  to  secape.  It  was  her  home.  She  was  proud  of  it. 
She  honored,  respected  and  really  loved  most  of  the 
missionaries,  especially  "Father"  and  "Mother"  Bush- 
nell. For  their  sakes,  she  gave  affection,  or  at  least 
respectful  obedience,  to  each  successive  new  missionary, 
as  from  time  to  time,  sickness  or  furlough  removed  the 
older  ones.  She  grew  up  in  the  school,  through  all  the 
grades  of  classes  until  she  was  in  the  highest,  during 
which  time  she  was  used  as  monitress  for  the  lower. 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  131 

Subsequently,  she  was  made  assistant  teacher;  and 
finally,  though  not  twenty-five  years  of  age,  she  was 
employed  as  Matron.  Others,  her  juniors,  finished 
their  course,  and  went  back  to  their  villages  for  marriage. 
She  remained,  her  education  being  carried  on  farther 
than  that  of  other  girls;  but,  with  many  interruptions. 
For,  the  successive  missionary  ladies  found  no  hired 
servant  as  skillful,  prompt,  careful  and  efficient  as  this 
unpaid  "daughter."  She  was  therefore  regularly  called 
out  of  school  for  the  tasteful  setting  of  the  dinner-table 
and  other  household  arrangements.  She  always  re- 
sponded without  complaint;  though  the  inconsiderate 
assumptions  of  some  later  younger  missionaries  would 
have  justified  complaint,  and  even  refusal.  So  trusted 
was  she  by  the  ladies  in  charge  that  she  was  never  pun- 
ished if  she  took  liberties  not  allowed  to  the  other  girls, 
or  if,  in  the  exercise  of  her  own  judgment,  she  did  her 
work  in  a  manner  different  from  what  she  had  been  told. 
Her  modifications  were  generally  improvements.  She 
was  allowed  much  authority  over  the  younger  children; 
her  characterisitic  kindness  prevented  her  ever  abusing 
that  authority.  Her  intimate  relations  with  the  mis- 
sionaries also  allowed  her  to  offer  advice  or  even  make 
respectful  protest.  But  she  did  not  over-step  the  line 
of  filial  obedience  and  respect.  All  this  will  explain 
how  it  could  be  that  she  was  allowed  to  act  as  she  did  in 
the  denouement  of  this  Tale. 


Her  younger  sister  Njiwo  was  a  strong,  but  less  noble 
character;  though,  to  strangers,  her  personality  and 
vivacity  were  more  attractive.  Notably  her  affection 
was  intense  for  those  she  loved,  and  to  them  she  was 


132  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

demonstrative;  but  she  had  an  uncontrollable  temper 
toward  those  she  disliked.  She  liked  and  had  been 
obedient  to  most  of  the  missionaries;  but,  in  common 

with  all  the  girls,  she  could  not  endure  Miss  X ,  the 

teacher  of  the  school  who  happened  to  be  at  Baraka  during 
the  superintendency  of  a  certain  missionary  and  his  wife. 

One  morning,  Njiwo  had  a  quarrel  about  some  matter 
with  that  teacher,  in  which  she  felt  that  the  latter  was 
unjust.  I  do  not  remember  what  it  was,  nor  how  it 
began,  nor  who  was  originally  in  the  wrong.  Possibly 
Njiwo  was.  But,  it  is  true  that  none  of  the  girls  re- 
spected Miss  X ,   who  was  of  a  disposition  which 

school-children,  the  world  over,  consider  ''sneaking." 
She  was  constantly  exacting.  She  was  always  seeking 
occasions  to  blame  the  children.  She  did  not  under- 
stand native  nature,  and  often  unwisely  ran  into  diffi- 
culty that,  with  a  little  tact,  could  have  been  avoided. 
She  had  little  control  of  the  girls;  for,  she  did  not  im- 
press them  with  dignity.  Her  government  was  mostly 
by  the  rod. 

So  that  day,  when  Njiwo  went  into  school  with  the 
other  girls,  she  entered  with  heart  embittered  by  the 
morning's  difficulty;  and,  in  a  state  of  mind  rare  in  her 
usually  amiable  disposition,  she  determined  to  behave 
badly. 

The  opening  exercises  were  the  recitation  of  Scripture 
verses  in  concert,  the  pupils  all  standing.  Njiwo's 
tactics  were  to  annoy  the  teacher  by  not  rising  in  time. 
Then,  when  bidden  to  rise,  she  obeyed  but  slowly,  and 
immediately  sat  down  again.  This  delayed  the  opening. 
When  finally  she  had  risen,  she  stood  defiantly  in  her 
place,  and  produced  confusion  by  deliberately  joining  in 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  133 

the  verse  recitation  out  of  time.  Others  of  the  pupils 
caught  the  infection  of  insubordination,  and  increased 
the  confusion  by  each  taking  up  the  verse  in  separate 
time ;  with  coughs,  laughter  and  pretense  at  protests  and 
quarrels  among  themselves,  as  if  they  were  trying  to  assist 
in  quelling  disorder.  The  elder  sister  Fando  was  present 
during  this  disorder.  She  did  not  contribute;  nor  was 
she  called  upon  by  the  teacher  to  assist  in  repressing  it. 
Just  at  that  juncture,  she  was  summoned  to  the  dwelling- 
house  to  assist  the  missionary  lady  in  cutting  out  some 
dresses,  and  therefore  was  not  present  during  the  subse- 
quent acts. 

The  teacher,  seeing  that  Njiwo  was  the  real  cause  of 
the  momentarily  increasing  hubbub,  advanced  toward 
her  and  slapped  her  face.  This  only  exasperated  the 
high-spirited  girl.  Njiwo  seized  her  hand,  and  suddenly 
bit  her  on  the  arm  in  the  muscle  above  the  elbow.  The 
sharp  closely-set  teeth  sank  together  through  the  tex- 
ture of  Miss  X 's  dress,  and  into  the  skin,  from  which 

a  few  drops  of  blood  began  to  trickle. 

This  almost  unparalleled  act  startled  the  school  to 
momentary  silence,  which,  however,  was  followed  by 
worse  confusion  as  the  teacher  abandoned  the  floor; 
and  leaving  the  school-room,  went  to  the  dwelling-house 
to  have  the  other  lady  apply  some  medicine  to  the  wound. 

Fando  saw  Miss  X coming  with  troubled  face  and 

sleeve  rolled  up  above  the  red  mark,  and  she  innocently 

exclaimed,  "O!    Miss  X !    has  a  ikorwe  (centipede) 

bitten    you?"     Miss    X replied,    "Yes!     but    your 

sister  is  the  centipede."  Fando  then  began  to  suspect 
the  state  of  the  case ;  and  while  the  elder  lady  went  with 
Miss  X to  apply  carbolic  acid  on  the  broken  skin, 


THE  mm  msmm  mission  hbrary 

J?5Rivi!Me  Drive;  New  York  27.  H.Y, 


134  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

she  hasted  to  the  school-room,  told  her  sister  what  Miss 

X had  said,  and  bade  her  tell  her  the  truth  of  the 

affair.  Njiwo  adraitted  that  she  had  bitten  deliberately 
and  purposely;  but,  so  facetiously  did  she  describe  the 
teacher's  exasperating  ways  and  the  njuke  (trouble)  she 
was  always  making,  that  the  elder  sister  was  amused  at 
the  younger  one's  graphic  mimicry,  at  the  same  time 
that  she  condemned  her  and  pitied  the  teacher.  The 
biting  was  all  wrong,  however  vexatious  the  teacher  may 
have  been. 

Miss  X returned  to  the  school-room;    and,  with 

the  assistance  of  Fando's  presence,  there  was  no  more 
confusion.  As  soon  as  school  closed,  the  latter  went  to 
the  dwelling-house  to  set  the  missionary  dinner-table. 
The  other  girls  having  gone  out  for  their  play,  the 
teacher  detained  Njiwo  at  the  school-house,  called  her 
into  the  Girls'  bed-room  (which  was  under  the  same 
roof)  and  attempted  to  whip  her  for  the  biting.  The 
girl's  passion  had  subsided,  and  she  probably  would  have 
submitted  to  some  other  form  of  punishment,  but  not  to 
that  of  whipping;    and  she  successfully  resisted.     Miss 

X then  tried  to  drag  her  to  the  dwelling-house  in 

order  that  the  other  lady  might  help  in  the  subjugation 

of  the  rebel.     Failing  in  this  attempt,  Miss  X sent  a 

little  girl  to  summon  the  other  lady,  who  promptly  came 
accompanied  by  her  husband.  Njiwo  saw  that  the  three 
would  be  too  many  for  her,  and  losing  all  her  own  ordi- 
nary self-control  and  respect  for  the  two  older  mission- 
aries, she  nerved  herself  for  a  fight,  and  called  on  the 
other  girls  to  help  her.  But  they  stood  in  a  frightened 
group  outside  the  house,  and  dared  neither  to  come  to 
her  aid  nor  to  carry  information  elsewhere. 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  135 

Njiwo  fought  desperately,  but  was  forced  to  the  floor 
by  main  strength  of  the  three  missionaries.  Doubtless, 
she  deserved  a  very  severe  punishment;  but  it  was  un- 
wise to  inflict  it  while  in  her  enraged  and  utterly  irra- 
tional state.  Also,  the  mode  adopted  was  undignified, 
and  not  such  as  would  impress  respect  for  authority. 
It  was  a  sudden  physical  force  exercised  against  one 
temporarily  helpless.  The  outcome  would  have  been 
better  had  there  been  delay  until  her  passion  had  sub- 
sided, and  an  appeal  made  to  the  moral  and  religious 
side  of  what  two  of  the  other  three  knew  was  a  very  in- 
telligent, high-spirited,  and  naturally  loving  and  affec- 
tionate nature. 

She  was  thrown  face  downward;  Miss  X held  her 

legs  from  struggling;  the  missionary  sat  bodily  on  her 
shoulders  with  his  hands  crushing  down  her  arms  to  the 
floor,  while  his  wife,  with  one  hand  forced  down  the  girl's 
hips,  and  with  the  other  rapidly  applied  a  rod  all  over 
her  person.  The  girl  was  unable  to  move,  helpless  to 
resist,  and  with  difficulty  could  breathe;  her  mouth  being 
pressed  to  the  floor. 

While  this  was  going  on,  her  sister,  ignorant  of  it  all, 
was  attending  happily  to  her  table-work.  A  young  man, 
Owondo^jone  of  the  oldest  pupils  in  the  Boys^ School^  who 
was  one  of  her  acImirersT^n^  who  had  offered  her  mar- 
riage, came  to  the  door  of  the  dining-room,  and  ex- 
citedly and  exaggeratingly  said,  "Do  you  stand  there 
working  for  white  people,  the  while  they  are  killing  your 
sister?  Don't  you  know  your  sister  is  being  beaten  to 
death?" 

She  caught  the  alarming  words  without  measuring 
them,  left  her  work,  and  flew  to  the  school-house.     Her 


136  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

sister  was  the  first  to  hear  her  coming,  so  occupied  were 
the  three  missionaries  with  the  whipping.  Njiwo  gasped 
to  her,  "I'm  dying  here!"  (It  was  a  common  racial 
exaggeration.)  Her  sister's  moans,  the  very  name  of 
death,  the  shock  at  the  sight  of  the  undignified  posi- 
tions of  those  whom  she  held  in  sincere  respect,  and 
indignation  at  the  violent  form  of  even  a  deserved  pun- 
ishment, all  flung  over  her  a  flood  of  rare  anger  that 
swept  away  her  deference  to  authority.     With  one  swift 

strong  pressure  of  one  hand  she  flung  aside  Miss  X , 

and  with  the  other  the  missionary.  But  even  in  that 
indignant  moment,  she  so  guarded  that  her  hand,  that, 
however  heavily  it  was  lent,  it  gave  only  a  push  not  a 
blow.  And  she  refrained  from  at  all  touching  the  wife, 
who,  startled  by  the  sudden  apparition,  had  ceased 
whipping,  and  stood  erect. 

When  she  was  dashing  into  the  room,  and  saw  the 
shameful  state  of  affairs,  she  had  exclaimed,  "Do  you 
know  whose  daughter  you  are  striking?  Do  you  forget 
whose  sister  it  is  that  you  are  killing."  (She  really 
thought  her  sister  was  injured ;  for  she  lay  moaning  and 
seemed  unable  to  rise.)  The  three  stood  silent,  appar- 
ently ashamed,  and  looking  at  each  other  as  if  they 
were  the  culprits;  and  did  not  resent  her  rebuke  as  she 
said,  "Is  this  the  way  you  do,  just  because  I  was  not 
here  to  control  my  sister?  Will  you  try  it  on  me  some 
day?" 

They  made  a  faint  reply.  And  all  went  out,  and 
scattered  to  their  several  places  for  their  noon  meal. 
She  was  not  bidden  to  be  silent,  when,  during  the  after- 
noon, she  laid  aside  her  almost  invariable  defence  of 
missionaries,  and  murmured  among  the  other  girls  about 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  137 

the  morning's  doings.  And  nothing  was  done  to  her  for 
her  interference.  Nor  was  anything  further  said  or 
done  to  Njiwo,  and  the  whole  affair  was  dropped. 

Perhaps  the  lady  and  her  husband  were  conscious 
that  the  intense  feeling  aroused  in  the  hearts  of  the 
entire  school,  both  girls  and  boys,  needed  only  a  little 
more  severity  to  be  driven  into  open  rebellion  and  a 

stampede.     They  certainly  were  aware  that  Miss  X 

was  not  free  from  blame ;  for,  on  previous  occasions  the}'- 
had  been  annoyed  at  being  drawn  into  her  difficulties, 
in  which,  while  formally  sustaining  her  before  the  pupils, 
they  had  privately  told  her  she  was  at  fault.  They  knew 
Njiwo's  character,  and  could  have  avoided  arousing  her 
tiger-like  desperation.  On  the  part  of  the  school,  they 
really  loved  the  elder  lady  and  her  husband.  No  race 
forgives  more  magnanimously  than  does  the  Negro.  In 
their  affection  they  forgave.  And,  with  racial  mercur- 
iality, they  seemed  soon  to  forget.  The  discipline  of  the 
school  lost  nothing,  in  that  the  missionaries  seemed  to 
have  bowed  to  a  native  sentiment.  The  rather,  much 
was  gained  for  the  establishment  of  mutual  respect,  and 
the  school  went  on  peacefully. 

Njiwo,  the  central  figure  of  this  Tale,  no  longer  lives. 
Though  she  became  a  grandmother,  she  retained  her 
old-time  vivacity  and  sprightly  step;  an  active  Christian, 
and  consistent  member  of  the  church;  friendly  to  every 
new  missionary,  and  respected  by  them  all;  just  as 
devoted  as  ever  when  she  loved,  and  capable  of  ani- 
mosity if  crossed. 


138  tales  out  of  school. 

Tale,  No.   19. 
^^Onang^-i^An   Unexpected   Treasure. 

SOMETIMES  children  were  brought  to  school  quite 
early,  even  though  they  were  very  young,  espe- 
cially if  their  parents  happened  to  be  very  friendly 
with  the  missionaries.  Others  were  brought  in  when 
they  were  quite  large  girls.  So  that  sometimes  the 
missionaries  objected  to  receiving  them,  because  they 
were  too  large,  and  fearing  lest  they  had  become  too 
much  possessed  of  native  customs,  or  would  not  be  able 
readily  to  obey  rules,  or  would  be  too  slow  at  learning 
books.  There  was  always  some  particular  reason  for 
the  coming  of  these  big  girls.  For  the  coming  of  the 
little  ones, — it  was  enough  that  they  were  brought  by 
their  parents,  whether  the  children  themselves  desired 
it  or  not.  But,  with  these  big  ones,  there  was  always  a 
desire  of  their  own.  Perhaps  they  were  related  to  some 
girl  already  in  school  who  wished  them  as  companions. 
Perhaps  they  had  been  sent  to  the  school-yard  with  food, 
or  on  some  errand,  or  had  come  only  for  a  little  visit. 
And,  after  becoming  somewhat  acquainted  with  the  other 
girls,  or  having  joined  in  their  play,  they  thought  things 
were  nice,  and  felt  like  remaining  at  school.  Then  they 
would  go  and  ask  their  parents  to  send  them,  giving  as  a 
reason  that  they  had  friends  in  school.  If  their  parents 
were  willing,  they  would  come  and  ask  the  missionaries 
to  take  them.  The  missionaries  would  take  a  look  at  the 
girl;  would  have  a  talk  together  by  themselves;  and 
sometimes  would  conclude  to  receive  her.  Sometimes, 
even  if  they  did  not  approve  of  taking  her,   still  they 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  139 

would  consent,  through  the  girl's  pleading  and  anxiety 
to  sta}' .  Her  relatives  in  the  school  would  plead  for  her, 
"Please  take  her;  she  is  my  cousin,"  or  young  aunt,  or 
other  relative.  Once  there  was  one  of  these  big  girls 
named  Onanga  brought  from  across  the  Bay.  Most  of 
the  time  when  such  girls  were  taken,  in  going  into  the 
school,  they  had  to  begin  with  the  lowest  class  in  A.  B.  C. 
They  had  to  sit  on  the  benches  with  the  smallest  children ; 
and  this  they  did  not  Hke;  for,  they  felt  ashamed  of  it. 
They  did  not  understand  why,  even  if  the}^  were  not 
in  the  same  book  with  the  big  girls,  they  could  not  be 
allowed  to  sit  in  the  same  seats  with  them. 

So  this  Onanga  came  to  ask  to  enter  the  school.  I 
was  assistant  and  was  interested  in  her.  She  was  not  a 
relative  of  mine,  but  she  was  a  cousin  of  my  cousins 
Lizzie  and  Emma. 

At  first  the  missionaries  thought  the  girl  was  too  large", 
and  said  they  could  not  take  her.  She  was  very  much 
disappointed  when  refused;  because  she  had  come  happy 
and  laughing,  in  full  hopes  of  being  taken.  She  pleaded 
very  much  for  herself;  and  asked  her  cousins  to  help  her. 
The  Mistress  said,  "You  are  too  big;  you  will  not  be  able 
to  learn  to  read."  She  said,  "I  will.  I  will  try.  And  I 
will  be  a  good  girl.  So,  please  let  me  come!"  The 
Mistress  was  surprised  at  her  earnestness,  and  at  her 
begging,  and  had  to  consent. 

So  Onanga  was  very  glad,  and  thanked  the  Mistress. 
And  she  began  to  ask  questions  right  away,  about  school- 
duties  and  rules  and  everything.  Next  day,  in  the 
school-room  she  started  to  go  to  the  place  of  the  big  First 
Class  where  her  cousins  were,  to  sit  with  them.  But 
she  was  told  that  her  place  was  in  one  of  the  front  seats 


140  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

with  the  little  girls.  She  was  surprised.  However, 
she  laughed  and  said,  "Am  I  indeed  to  go  with  these  little 
things  here?  All  right!  I  came  to  learn.  I'll  try!" 
Turning  to  the  little  ones,  she  added,  "  You'll  see  I'll  leave 
you  all  behind!" 

She  kept  her  word;  she  tried  her  best;  she  had  her 
eyes  and  ears  open  all  the  time,  to  learn  and  know  all 
she  could.  While  on  the  alphabet,  learning  the  letters 
along  with  the  little  ones,  she  would  listen  to  the  B-a-Ba 
spelling-class  on  the  next  seat  behind  her.  While  re- 
peating her  own  lesson,  A.  B.  C,  in  an  undertone  to 
herself,  she  was  following  aloud  their  spelling  of  B,  a,-Ba. 
When  school  time  was  over,  she  would  return  to  the 
school-room,  take  her  book,  and  sitting  down  with  it, 
would  call  to  whoever  was  passing  by,  ''Come!  show  me 
this  lesson."  She  would  say,  "I  was  given  such-and- 
such  a  number  of  letters  to  prepare.  I  already  know 
them.  Please  show  me  some  others  for  to-morrow's 
recitation."  So,  in  a  few  days,  she  had  finished  the 
alphabet.  Then  she  was  immediately  advanced  to  the 
lowest  spelling-class.  There  she  did  the  same  way; 
spelling  to  herself  in  her  own  one  syllables,  but  listening 
to  the  next  class  behind  her  that  was  spelling  in  two 
syllables.  She  tried  even  to  pick  up  our  English  songs, 
besides  spelling  in  the  native  hymns. 

So  she  went  on  about  everything.  Obedient  to  the 
teacher,  constantly  trying  to  learn.  Very  cheerful, 
good-natured  and  well-behaved  among  the  other  girls. 
She  taught  them  some  new  native  plays.  As  she  was 
a  big  girl,  and  knew  many  legends  and  fairy-tales,  she 
gave  long  narrations  of  them  to  the  other  girls,  which 
pleased  them  very  much.     All  the  girls  and  mission- 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  141 

aries  liked  her  exceedingly,  for  she  was  always  full  of 
fun,  light-hearted  and  laughing  good-naturedly.  She 
learned  to  read  very  rapidly.  But,  as  she  was  so  large  when 
she  came,  it  did  not  take  many  years  to  call  her  a  woman. 
Within  two  years,  her  father  came  to  take  her  away, 
to  give  her  in  marriage.  She  did  not  like  this  at  all, 
though  the  man  to  whom  she  was  to  be  given  was  a  pleas- 
ant young  man.  She  murmured  and  cried,  saying,  "I 
don't  want  to  go  at  all! "  All  the  girls  missed  her  when 
she  left.  She  told  us  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  run 
away  from  her  husband,  if  she  got  a  chance,  and  would 
come  back  to  school.  But  she  could  not  accomplish 
it,  as  her  father's  house  was  across  the  Bay  on  its  west- 
em  side,  and  her  husband's,  though  on  the  Baraka  side 
of  the  Bay,  was  distant  ten  miles  farther  up,  at  Ovendo 
Point.  After  she  had  been  there  quite  a  while,  almost 
a  year,  as  the  missionaries  were  still  interested  in  her, 
they  heard  that  Onanga  had  sent  word  that  whenever 
there  was  time  in  vacation,  she  wished  that  the  Mistress 
and  the  girls  might  visit  her  at  Ovendo.  For,  it  was 
the  missionaries'  custom,  twice  a  year,  to  take  us  on  an 
excursion  or  pic-nic,  either  across  the  Bay,  or  somewhere 
else.  So  this  time,  the  Mistress  decided  on  Ovendo, 
and  began  to  get  ready,  preparing  food  and  every  needed 
thing.  Then  she  took  us  by  boat  to  Ovendo  Point. 
When  we  got  there,  we  found  Onanga  and  her  husband, 
and  their  baby-boy  a  few  months  old,  their  first-bom. 
We  had  not  heard  of  its  birth.  Onanga  was  very  much 
delighted.  As  soon  as  she  saw  us  coming,  she  ran  down 
to  the  beach,  shouting  and  laughing  with  joy,  just  the 
same  merry  Onanga  as  when  at  school.  Then  the  Mis- 
tress,   surprised,    said,     "Why!   Onanga!     Is    this    my 


142  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

Onanga  and  with  a  baby?"  Then  the  husband  was 
pleased,  and  said,  "Yes!  still  your  Onanga."  He  was 
very  much  gratified  at  our  arrival.  He  seemed  proud 
that  his  wife  owned  so  many  and  so  important  visitors. 
All  the  children  gathered  around  Onanga;  and  each  one 
wanted  to  fondle  her  baby.  The  husband  took  his  net 
and  went  along  the  beach;  and  soon  came  back  with 
fresh  fish.  And  Onanga  cooked  them  nicely  for  us. 
After  we  had  eaten,  she  took  us  all  a  walk  to  adjacent 
villages;  then  to  the  beach;  then  to  bathe  in  the  Bay 
at  a  quiet  cove  around  the  Point.  This  the  children 
enjoyed  very  much.  The  hours  passed  rapidly;  and 
when  we  all  had  returned  to  the  village  of  Ovendo,  the 
Mistress  thought  it  was  time  to  start  back  to  Baraka. 
Onanga  begged  the  missionaries  to  stay  over  night  till 
the  next  day.  But  this  was  considered  impossible,  as 
preparations  or  word  for  that  had  not  been  left  at  Ba- 
raka. So  we  had  to  go.  Onanga  led  the  children  down 
to  the  beach,  to  see  them  ofT,  with  loud  good-byes, 
of  "Mbiambieni!  mbiambieni!  come  again."  But  the 
missionaries  did  not  find  another  opportunity  to  pay  a 
second  visit  there.  For,  we  took  alternate  vacations, 
on  different  sides  of  the  Bay,  or  at  the  plantations;  or 
at  Anwondo  three  miles  down  the  Bay  on  the  Baraka 
side;  or  at  Nomba  three  miles  up  the  Bay  between  Ba- 
raka and  Ovendo.  There  did  not  pass  many  years,  when 
we  heard  that  Onanga's  husband  was  dead;  and  she 
went  back  across  the  Bay  to  her  own  people.  Then, 
after  a  while  she  married  a  second  time,  across  the  Bay, 
where  we  had  no  frequent  chance  to  visit  her.  With 
this  husband  she  had  two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl. 
After  a  while,  this  husband  died  also.     She  was  married 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  143 

a  third  time,  not  by  her  own  choice,  but  because  she  was 
inherited  by  a  relative  of  the  second  husband. 

She  did  not  Hve  many  years  with  this  third  one.  For, 
she  sickened  when  she  went  with  him  on  his  trade-jour- 
ney up  the  river.  She  died,  leaving  her  three  children, 
the  oldest  of  whom  was  not  sufficiently  old  to  take  care 
of  the  other  two.  They  stayed  with  Onanga's  mother. 
But  the  youngest  boy  did  not  long  survive  his  mother. 
After  a  few  years,  the  oldest  boy  died.  And  there  re- 
mains only  the  daughter,  who  has  never  been  sent  to 
school. 


VJ     ^ 


PART  III. 
IN    THE    CHURCH 


Kabinda:  an  Ignoble  Life. 

ABOUT  the  years  1845-50,  during  the  early  days 
^  of  the  church  at  Libreville,  while  it  was  a  Con- 
gregational Society  belonging  to  the  A.  B.  C. 
F.  M.,  there  was  among  the  first  converts  a  young  man, 
by  name,  Kabinda.  Following  the  habit  of  all  half- 
civilized  native  African  men,  he  adopted  also  an  English 
name,  **  Moore."  He  belonged  to  a  prominent  family, 
and  therefore  was  held  in  much  respect  socially,  jje 
was  well  educated,  speaking  English  readily,  and  there- 
fore was  valued  as  an  assistant  in  the  Mission,  and  was 
sought  for  as  a  clerk  by  foreign  traders.  He  was  mar- 
ried to  a  young  woman,  "Jenny,"  who  also  had  been 
trained  in  the  Baraka  school.  They  both  were  church 
members.  Though  bom  as  heathen,  they  both  had 
early  been  placed  under  civilized  and  Christian  influ- 
ences, so  that  it  was  easier  for  them  to  maintain  a 
correct  life  than  for  a  convert  from  heathenism,  whose 
years  had  long  been  steeped  in  evil  habits.  He  was 
honored  in  the  church,  and  was  elected  as  one  of  the 
three  "Committee  men"  (somewhat  equivalent  to  a 
Presbyterian  Eldership)  in  control  of  the  religious  in- 
terests of  the  Society. 

After  about  nine  years,  there  came  a  time  when  he 
grew  careless  in  his  Christian  duties.  While  still  hold- 
ing office,  and  acting  as  judge  of  others,  he  was  secretly 

(144) 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  145 

planning  to  break  away  from  church  control.  But 
there  was  nothing  known  or  even  suspected  positively 
against  him,  except  that  Mission  friends  began  to  be 
anxious  about  him,  and  kindly  warned  him  against  his 
apparent  coldness  in  spiritual  life.  Also,  he  had  do- 
mestic dissensions.  He  made  a  complaint  against  his 
wife,  and  she  against  him.  The  complaints  grew,  and 
took  form  into  actual  charges,  of  her  drinking  liquor 
and  being  unfaithful  to  him;  and  of  his  (while  yet  in 
Mission  service)  accepting  larger  pay  in  foreign  trade, 
with  all  its  (then)  inevitably  associated  evils  of  liquor- 
selling  and  Sabbath-breaking. 

They  were  both  suspended,  and  he  was  degraded  from 
office.  The  Congregational  Society  and  Mission  both 
acted  with  great  leniency  to  him.  For,  even  after  his 
wife  had  been  finally  excommunicated,  he,  with  his 
greater  offences,  was  for  two  more  years  allowed  to  hold 
a  suspended  relation;  the  hope  being  that  he  would 
repent,  and  his  services  be  saved  to  the  Mission.  He  did 
not.  Finally,  after  some  ten  years  of  church  connection,, 
he  was  cut  off;  his  open  trading  in  liquor  being  followed 
by  his  going  into  polygamy  with  a  second  woman. 
Then  began  years  of  great  outward  prosperity  that 
seemed,  to  the  weak  faith  of  other  church-members, 
to  discount  the  Bible  truth  that  the  wicked  shall  not 
prosper.  In  his  fall,  others  followed  him,  expecting  to 
grow  as  great  commercially  as  he  was.  A  deep  injury 
was  thus  done  to  the  church.  Many  members  looked 
lightly  on  the  sin  of  Hquor-trading,  for  the  sake  of  the 
money  that  was  in  it.  The  very  members  of  the  Mission 
at  that  Station  seemed  to  the  public  to  lend  their  coun- 
tenance to  his  early  success.     Instead  of  turning  him  a 


146 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 


cold  shoulder  or  otherwise  showing  public  condemnation 
of  his  course  (as  they  did  of  erring  women)  they  ad- 
dressed him  in  terms  and  with  manner  of  respect  as 
"Mr.  Moore."  The  traders  rejoiced  in  their  acquisition 
of  him,  and  in  the  success  of  their  efforts  to  draw  him 
away  from  the  Mission.  He  was  honored  in  the  com- 
mercial community;  and  the  missionaries  joined  in  this 
outward  honoring  of  him,  by  the  marked  difference  of 
their  reception  of  him,  when  he  happened  to  come  to 
them  on  business,  over  the  slight  manner  of  their  recep- 
tion of  better  but  poorer  people.  He  added  to  his  num- 
ber of  wives.  Other  families  sought  to  have  their 
daughters  married  to  him.  He  was  rich.  He  was 
entrusted  by  traders  with  thousands  of  dollars.  Being 
comparatively  honest,  and  not  a  drinker  of  the  liquor 
he  sold  to  others,  he  grew  in  power  and  trust,  the  while 
that  weaker  men  who  had  followed  him  in  falling  from 
the  church,  slipped  into  dishonesty,  drunkenness,  debt 
and  prison.  He  bought  many  slaves;  erected  a  large 
framed  foreign-built  house  finer  than  the  plain  Mission- 
house;  and  made  a  display  of  furniture,  mirrors  and 
cheap  showy  pictures,  and  a  retinue  of  attendants. 

One  check  came  to  him,  as  from  the  hand  of  God: 
his  first  bom  and  beloved  son  and  chosen  heir,  a  lad, 
was  killed  by  a  shark.  He  never  recovered  from  the 
blow ;  but  he  did  not  humble  himself,  nor  repent  of  his 
sins.  His  wives  bore  him  other  sons;  but  they  were 
children  of  his  polygamous  days  and  (some  of  them) 
were  the  children  of  slave  wives;  and  of  not  all  of  them 
was  he  the  father.  (In  native  polygamy  and  slavery,  a 
child's  paternity  is  often  uncertain.)  He  was  never 
fond  of  them  as  he  had  been  of  that  one  son.     His  two 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  -147 

most  attractive  daughters  were  sent  to  the  Baraka 
school  and  grew  up  there  to  young  womanhood;  and, 
under  school-girl  sympathy,  united  with  the  church. 
In  which  act,  he  encouraged  them.  It  was  a  sop  to 
please  the  missionary,  and,  perhaps,  to~quiet  his  own 
conscience.  They  were  proud  of  their  father's  wealth 
and  position.  That  he  was  a  polygamist  did  not  shame 
them.  (Indeed,  polygamy,  though  of  course  not  prac- 
tised, was  not  seriously  objected  to,  by  the  majority  of 
the  native  church-members.)  They  did  not  see  that, 
as  far  as  actions  went,  he  was  at  all  disrespected  for 
that  by  any  of  the  foreign  community,  not  even  by  the 
Baraka  missionaries. 

All  these  slaves  and  wives  cost  him  much  in  their  pur- 
chase and  maintenance.  His  position  demanded  of  him 
frequent  largesse  to  his  numerous  mothers-in-law  and 
other  marriage  connections,  and  to  the  crowd  of  idlers 
that  gathered  around  all  chiefs  of  families.  By  such  vV*^^ 
largesse  he  fell  into  debt  to  his  trader  employers.  They 
cast  their  lustful  eyes  on  his  two  young  lady  daughters. 
And  he  sold  them  to  them  as  temporary  "wives."  His 
goods-chests  were  again  filled;  and  his  debts  wiped  out. 
HaJ^ingjnore  than  ten  women  himself,  it  did  not  much 
twinge  his  deadened  conscience  that  his  daughters  should 
be  the  one  wife  of  white  men,  though  the  relation  was  a 
peculiar  and  uncertain  one,  in  its  duration.  To  the 
young  women,  the  position  was  gratifying;  it  gave  them 
ease,  and  station,  and  wealth.  Really,  as  far  as  morality 
was  concerned,  their  "marriage"  without  ceremony  or 
contract  was  felt  by  them  to  be  as  binding  as  any  church- 
recognized  native  marriage,  or  even  as  many  mission 
marriages  made  with  church  ceremony.     For,  all  these 


iAV"^' 


148  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

ceremonies  were  often  disregarded  and  the  marriage 
broken,  when  the  parties  for  even  sUght  causes  chose  to 
do  so.  These  young  women  were  faithful  each  to  her 
chosen  "husband,"  and  the  men  were  faithful  to  them 
as  long  as  they  stayed  in  Africa.  There  was  the  damning 
point  in  their  act.  The  young  women  were  called 
"wife"  and  treated  as  such  by  the  men.  But  these  men 
knew  that  some  day  they  would  return  to  Europe,  and 
would  abandon  them.  They  were  only  "temporary" 
wives.  The^Mission  unjustly  called  them  a  woman's 
vilest  name.  They  did  not  deserve  it.  They  were 
modest  and  faithful.  Germany  would  recognize  them 
as  "morganatic"  wives.  The  United  States  would 
recognize  them  as  "common-law"  wives.  The  church 
that  had  allowed  their  father  for  so  long  a  suspended 
relation,  did  not  allow  them  even  that,  but  hasted  to 
excommunicate  them.  And  still  the  missionaries  re- 
ceived the  father  in  their  parlor;  but  met  the  young 
women  out  of  doors  only  with  icy  rebuke. 

Years  passed  on.  His  white  employers  died  or  left 
the  country.  New  ones  rated  him  at  a  lower  value.  He 
was  again  sinking  into  debt,  while  keeping  up  an  expen- 
sive establishment,  and  still  apparently  wealthy.  He 
was  beginning  to  lose  his  vigor  and  skill  in  trade.  Profits 
were  less  than  formerly.  Perhaps  he  began  to  fear  that 
God's  controversy  with  him  might  come  to  a  sudden  and 
destructive  end.  Whatever  the  cause,  I  am  willing  to 
think  it  was  not  for  hypocrisy,  that,  about  1872,  he  began 
to  attend  church  services;  and,  one  day,  in  prayer- 
meeting,  rose  with  confession  of  sin  and  request  for 
prayer  in  his  behalf.  It  was  a  day  of  rejoicing  at 
Baraka.  The  great  man,  the  rich  man,  the  prominent 
citizen,  the  long  wanderer,  was  returning!!     The  rejoic- 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  149 

ing  began  before  he  had  commenced  to  disentangle  him 
self  from  his  evil  surroundings.  His  confession  was  not 
complete,  nor  his  attitude  sufficiently  humble.  He 
still  was  selling  liquor,  and  retaining  his  Polygamy.  Of 
course,  he  promised  that  he  would  divest  himself  of  these 
after  the  church  should  again  accept  him.  But  he  was 
holding  on  to  them  till  he  should  see  whether  the  mission- 
ary would  allow  him  a  certain  condition.  That  condi- 
tionjwas,  that,  of  his  many  wives,  he  should  not  be  re- 
quired to  retain  his  originally-married  Jenny,  but  should 
be  allowed  to  chose  a  younger  and  more  attractive  one. 
I  do  not  know  how  complete  would  have  been  his  return 
had  this  condition  been  assented  to.  Perhaps  it  might 
have  been  allowed;  for,  both  of  them  had  broken  their 
original  marriage  vow  again  and  again.  Hjs^conrlit.ion 
Was_refus^d.^_  _And  he  stepped  back  into  his  sinful  life._. 

For  a  few  more  years,  he  kept  up  with  the  current,  and 
retained  at  least  outward  signs  of  wealth,  and  a  comfort- 
able though  reduced  commercial  position. 

But  a  change  came.  Years  were  wrecking  his  vigor. 
One  of  those  two  daughters  died.  Several  of  his  sons 
died.  His  women  ceased  to  find  him  attractive;  and 
one  after  another  of  them  deserted  him.  His  long  habit 
of  debt  led  him  to  dishonest  methods  of  purchase  and 
payment.  He  lost  the  confidence  of  the  white  traders; 
instead  of  entrusting  him  with  thousands,  they  either 
refused  him,  or  gave  him  only  hundreds. 

Still  his  family  name  was  retained  in  honor  by  his 
tribe.  As  older  claimants  to  the  Family  *' Throne"  died 
off,  he  fell  heir  to  the  "Kingship"  and  was  recognized 
by  the  local  French  government  as  one  of  the  native 
Chiefs  whose  advice  was  occasionally  asked  in  settlement 
of  minor  native  questions.     The  name  of  **King"  made 


\ 


150  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

him  very  proud,  though  his  fine  dwelling  was  falling  into 
decay,  and  his  slaves  had  run  away,  and  there  were  left 
but  few  signs  of  "greatness,"  except  his  expensive  suits 
of  foreign  clothing.  His  "  Kingship  "  was  very  nominal. 
He  was  only  one  of  four  or  five  native  Chiefs,  who,  in 
virtue  of  their  Family  (not  personal)  prominence,__w£re 
catted  '^'"Kings;"  and^he  was  least  among  them.  Only 
one  of  those  five  really  had  any  power. 

As  one  after  another  of  the  earthly  possessions,  for 
which  he  had  been  defiling  his  soul  during  over  thirty 
years,  fell  away  from  him,  conscience,  or  fear,  or  perhaps 
a  hope  of  help  from  the  Mission  that  had  dealt  so  gently 
with  him,  made  him  again,  about  1892,  repeat  the 
public  confession  of  sin  which  he  had  insincerely  made 
twenty  years  before.  It  was  easy  now  for  him  to  come 
without  conditions.  For,  as  to  Polygamy,  he  had  no 
wives  to  put  away.  They  had  all  died  or  left  him  (even 
Jenny)  except  one  of  the  younger  ones  whom  it  suited 
him  to  keep.  It  was  no  credit  to  him  that  he  was  no 
longer  a  polygamist.  Polygamy  had  abandoned  him, 
not  he  it.  He  was  no  longer  a  liquor-seller ;  not  by  choice, 
but  because  white  traders  no  longer  would  entrust  him 
with  the  charge  of  even  a  sub-trading  house. 

Again  the  missionaries  at  Baraka  (which  in  1871  had 
become  Presbyterian)  seemed  to  set  a  premium  on  male 
church  wandering,  by  not  only  (as  was  right)  receiving 
him  with  open  arms,  but  by  giving  him  at  once  entire 
trust  and  confidence,  which  he  had  justly  forfeited,  and  of 
which  the  traders  who  best  knew  him  no  longer  con- 
sidered him  worthy.  It  seemed  almost  as  if  he  was 
regarded  as  doing  the  church  a  favor  in  returning  to  it. 
But,  in  his  return,  there  was  no  humility  of  the  Prodigal, 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  151 

though  the  fatted  calf  was  being  killed  for  him.  While 
it  was  proper  to  receive  him,  as  a  penitent  back  again  to 
church  membership,  his  more  than  thirty  years  of  fla- 
grant sin  should  have  subjected  him  to  a  test  of  at  least 
a  year.  But,  astonishing  to  relate,  he  was  given  no  time 
test.  Not  only  was  he  at  once  restored  to  church  member- 
ship, but  notwithstanding  his  wandering,  he  was  honored 
almost  immediately  by  being  put  into  his  old  office  of 
Elder !  Of  course,  this  was  done  by  the  formality  of  a  vote 
of  the  church  members:  But,  they  are  accustomed  to 
vote  as  they  are  desired  by  the  white  Pastor.  Doubtless 
they  voted  willingly;  for,  their  appreciation  of  the 
sinfulness  of  his  sin  was  almost  as  slight  as  his  own. 
Their  vote  showed  how  slightly  public  opinion  of  evil 
customs  had  risen  above  the  level  of  heathenism.  The 
man  whose  evil  example  had  misled  scores  of  young  men, 
was,  while  still  enjoying  money  that  had  been  made  in 
sinful  ways,  set  up  in  the  church  as  guide,  teacher,  exam- 
ple, leader  and  judge  of  humble  Christians  who  had 
quietly  been  keeping  their  way  all  the  thirty-three  years 
he  had  been  rioting  in  sin! 

This  was  the  status  of  affairs  when  I  was  transferred  to 
the  charge  of  the  Gaboon  church  in  1893.  I  had  never 
come  in  real  contact  with  Kabinda.  I  had  lived  in 
other  parts  of  the  Mission-field,  and  only  casually  met 
him  on  my  occasional  visits  to  Libreville.  I  knew  of  his 
history  from  statements  of  natives  and  of  fellow-mission- 
aries and  traders,  and  especially  from  the  church  records. 
The  two  missionaries  who  had  foisted  him  into  the  Elder- 
ship were  gone,  and  I  accepted  what  I  found.  I  had  to 
recognize  him  as  an  officer  in  the  church;  but  I  could 
not  respect  him,  nor  did  I  believe  he  was  sincere.     His 


152  TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

exhortations  in  the  prayer-meetings  came  with  poor 
grace  from  one  who  was  still  holding  the  pecuniary  profits 
of  the  sale  of  his  daughters.  The  still  living  one  of  the 
two,  after  passing  from  one  hand  to  another  as  "tem- 
porary" wife,  had  at  last  become  deserving  of  the  vile 
name  by  which  the  missionaries,  (especially  the  female 
ones)  had  originally  called  her,  and  from  which  she 
would  probably  have  been  saved  had  they  accorded  her 
a  tithe  of  the  charity  they  spent  on  her  more  guilty 
father.  His  warnings  to  young  men  came  with  no  force. 
Full  half  of  those  young  men  were  ready  to  take  all  the 
risk  of  sin,  sickness,  prison  or  death,  with  the  chance  to 
enjoy  as  he  had  enjoyed,  and  finally  to  be  honored  as 
he  was  being  honored.  He  had  served  both  God  and 
Mammon,  and,  in  the  eyes  of  most  of  the  community, 
had  gained  from  both.  They  forgot,  or  did  not  appre- 
ciate what  he  had  lost  in  the  rust  that  sin  brings  to  the 
soul,  in  the  evil  done  to  others  that  can  never  be  wiped 
out,  and  in  the  wasted  ability  that  could  have  made  him 
a  useful  and  efficient  worker  in  the  building  up  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Christ,  which  he  really  had  done  so  much 
to  pull  down. 

While  I  had  to  accept  him  officially  as  a  member  of  the 
Session,  and  gave  him  the  ordinary  respect  due  to  the 
office  of  Elder,  I  did  not  in  any  other  way  dignify  him. 
I  never  in  discussing  church  matters  with  him,  addressed 
him,  or  spoke  of  him  as  "king."  He  was  somewhat 
offensive  in  his  assumptions.  Being  a  few  years  my 
senior,  he  took  occasion  to  speak  sarcastically  of  the 
"young  men  of  the  present"  as  compared  with  the  "old 
men  of  his  day." 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  153 

It  would  have  been  amusing,  if  it  had  not  been  so 
marked  by  pitiful  vanity,  to  see  thejDld  man's  dressing 
o^  himself  inyouffl:ul  atfir^''with  low  pump-shoes,  ajid 
carrying  a  styFislT  cane. 

He  still  trie3^to  do  ^little  trading  in  an  honest  way, 
among  the  adjacent  Fang  tribe  up  river.  On  one  of  these 
journeys,  he  was  exposed  to  wet,  which  brought  on  a 
pneumonia;  of  which  he  died  in  1895,  three  years  after 
his  restoration  to  the  church. 

At  his  funeral  services,  I  read  the  usual  burial  form  for 
the  Christian  dead.  But  I  added  no  words  of  eulogy,  as 
the  assembled  non-christian  crowd  seemed  to  expect,  for 
"the  King."  His  place  in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  it  was 
not  for  me  to  assign.  But  I  was  not  willing  to  add  special 
honor  to  the  man  who  had  done  so  little  for  the  Kingdom 
— the  evil  of  whose  example  will  never  be  removed — 
and  the  turning  of  whose  life  for  possible  good  into 
actual  badness,  I  do  not  cease  to  regret.  So  much  was 
wasted ! 

/A^D     v<2-^w    y^cc^m^  ^^-^^^^  ^^— 


r;^,- 


t 


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